Be My Escape
by Estelle Stafford
Summary: AU: Claire meets Gabriel Gray before he becomes Sylar, some things change, some things are impossible to change. Is it possible for a cheerleader to save a desperate man from becoming the fate of becoming a monster?
1. Seemingly Ordinary

**Author's Note: **Repost, shouldn't have grammar is mainly a Gabriel fic, I'm not sure, but if he does become Sylar it won't be for awhile. I originally was going to call this "Save Me from Me" but after hearing Relient K's "Be My Escape" I thought that was perfect because it seemed that Gabriel was just trying to escape what he thought was an ordinary life. I also like to note that it has been awhile since I posted anything, so I'm kind of out of my element, and this is a new fandom for me.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the rights to _**Heroes **_that belongs to Tim Kring, nor the song _**Be My Escape **_by Relient K.

**Summary:** Claire ends up working for Gabriel Gray at his watch shop to pay for a gift for her father. What new chain of events will occur? Will Gabriel still become Sylar or can Claire save him from himself?

**Author**: Estelle Stafford

**Beta:** Silver Candle

**Be My Escape**

**Chapter One: **_**Seemingly Ordinary**_

Claire found herself cleaning out the attic. It wasn't the worst possible thing she could be doing, but it was on a Saturday none the less. There was also the fact the place was full of dust, spiders and possibly rats, none of which she was looking forward to greeting, but that is what she gets for sneaking out late at night. As much as she hated cleaning this mess up---she looked over to the piles of boxes--she didn't regret sneaking out. It had been worth it. Brody, one of the most popular guys in school had kissed her; though she would never admit it out loud the kiss had been a bit disappointing. It didn't matter if he was a football player and Jackie would without doubt be jealous.

She just couldn't stand Jackie because she was so mean, but Claire had to be friends with her if she was going to be on the cheerleader squad. She knew Jackie had the power to make her life a living hell if she didn't. "Life is so unfair." She complains as she opens another box and was rather surprised to find an old watch.

She pulled it out and turned it over to see something written on the back, a name, "Edward C. Bennet...that sounds familiar." She searched her mind to recall where she had heard it from before. "Oh yeah, that is our great-grandpa's name! Hmm, I wondered if this still works..." She wound it up but it didn't move. "I guess not." She stuffed it in her pocket and decided to ask her mom about it later. She finishes sorting through the boxes, throwing away useless junk, boxing up the Christmas stuff, and the family treasures.

She laughs at some of the pictures she finds. Especially of the one where she made Lyle dance with her in his cowboy boots. It was so cute. He had a chubby little baby face, his hair had also been rather curly, but now his face had become slender, his bright blond curls mixed with light brown and he was no longer her adorable brother. Now he just drove her nuts. She sighs feeling a little sad as she puts it with the rest to go into the photo albums, her mother was feeling nostalgic and wanted all the family photos in albums, she had gone crazy at Kohl's and bought a whole bunch of adorable albums to put her kids' equally adorable faces in.

Claire supposed it had something to do with that she was almost old enough to drive and Lyle was almost in high school. They were all growing up. She, personally, really couldn't wait to go off to college, get away from people like Jackie, stay up late, and just live her life as she pleased. As of now she felt like she was under somebody's thumb: Jackie, her parents, and teachers. They all seemed to be pushing her to be something or live her life in a certain way. It was all frustrating. She found that she was losing herself in all the different people she was expected to be. On one hand she wanted to be the faithful daughter, smart student. On the opposite hand she wanted friends, fun, and a sense of freedom, sometimes that required going against her parents. It was all so...

"Too much thinking!" She exclaimed as she shook her head. "I've been in this attic way too long. I wonder if mom made any lemonade. I need to ask her about the watch." She patted her pocket then made her way down the stairs.

* * *

Gabriel Gray tweaked his latest watch. He was a perfectionist by nature, especially when it came to watches. Though most would have been pleased to have such an old piece just running, he would not be satisfied with that. It was two seconds too fast and that would not do. He moved a gear a bit so it wound a tad bit slower. After closing the watch he listened to the tic-tock, tic-tock, tic-tock. It was perfect. He made sure all the parts were secure before putting it back in the box which it had came in. Then he stuffed it back with the rest of the orders. After that he pick up another one to fix, and in between he took customers, checked the orders, ordered parts, and many other little tasks. That is how his day went, everyday. It seemed it would be no different. His life was rather boring and unspectacular.

The door made a _ding _sound indicating someone had arrived. An older looking man had made his way up to the counter, immediately Gabriel heard the ticking. "Your watch is running half a second too fast." He points out, "I can have that fixed in a couple of minutes." He reaches over for the watch.

The man waves off his offer, "Are you Gabriel Gray?"

"You're not here for a watch?" the watchmaker looks up confused.

He shook his head. "No I'm not. What I'm about to say may seem strange, but I hope you will keep an open mind." The elder man looked almost pleading. "I think you may be a special person." 'Special'; the word rang in his ear; it is what his mother had told him all his life. It is the thing he longed to be.

"Yes," He adjusts his glasses, "I'm listening, what do you mean special?"

* * *

Claire looked at the paper in her hand again. Her mom gave her rather detailed directions to the closest watch shop. She recalled her mom's surprise at seeing the old watch. Apparently her dad had been quite upset when he thought he had lost it because it had been in his family for generations, so he would be pleasantly surprised if she gave it back to him fixed as well as polished up for his birthday. Claire was so excited to hear that and she decided the very next day she would go after cheerleader practice.

She wiped some sweat off her forehead. It was good a thing she was fit, because the walk had been much longer than she anticipated, but she finally managed to find the right street. "Now, look for the big purple dog and it should be..." She saw the huge purple plush that was a decoration in the local fabric store and right next to it as promised was the watchmaker shop, written on the door was _Gray's Watch Shop_." Claire walked in and the door _dinged_.

"I'll be there in a minute," a voice called out and Claire had hoped the guy was cute, because the voice didn't sound too bad. She was disappointed. The guy who came out looked like one of those dorky guys from an eighties movies, thick black glasses, slicked back hair, bushy eyebrows, and the worst taste in clothes ever! "Can I help you?" though--she found herself smiling--it didn't lessen his voice.

Gabriel had seen a various amount of customers, of all types; however the young blond cheerleader seemed a bit out of place more so then others. She was a representation of everything he wasn't: pretty, popular, and confident. He knew this by her stance, her smile, and of course, her outfit. It was a typical cheerleader outfit, short skirt, long sleeve shirt, and the school colors.

"Um, I was wondering....," she pulled out a watch from her pocket which had been carefully wrapped in a cloth, "If you could fix this."

He took out what looked like a little microscope and put it over one of his eyes. He frowned. Who carries an antique carelessly in their pocket? "This is probably about 18th century, you really should be more careful with this."

The blond cheerleader looks down at her shoes a bit ashamed, "I didn't want my dad to know I had it. I wrapped it up as well as I could."

He ignores her as he unscrews the watch, quickly assessing what is wrong. "I believe I can fix it." It will take a couple weeks. It looks like it will run up to about a few hundred dollars though."

Claire frowned. There went that idea; there was no way she could afford that. "I don't have that kind of money," she admitted. "Can we come up with some kind of arrangement?" He gazed down at her and looked at her slightly confused; she wasn't offering what he thought she was offering was she? Claire instantly realized how that choice of words might be perceived. "No, no," she held her hands up. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that!" She looked around the place, "Maybe I could work here; this place looks like it could use a good cleaning."

"My shop is just fine as it as, I really don't need any help." A little offended that she found his shop not up to her expectations.

"Oh please," she begged with her hands clasped together while she pouted. "I found this watch in my father's attic and I think it will be the perfect birthday gift."

"I can't, some of the parts will have to be special ordered and from a specific distributor."

"Well, can't you cut out the labor and my work will be exchanged for that? I'm sure I can help somehow."

"Uh," he rubbed his forehead out of frustration, "You are not going to leave are you, if I don't agree?"

"Nope," her smile was a rarity in a place like this and he knew that agreeing to this wasn't wise, because he could lose a lot of money but... he kind of liked that smile.

"Fine, I assume your only free time is on the weekend's right?" She froze, because she didn't realize what she would be sacrificing when she offered the deal. "I also assume by that look of dread you don't want to spend your entire weekend here. So, I suppose you can come to work two hours every Saturday for the next two months. You will still need to come with another two hundred though."

She thought for a moment. She had little save up and she was pretty sure her mom would help her out with this one. "Okay, yeah I can do that!" She linger than for a moment, "I guess I'll see you on Saturday." She waved him goodbye.

* * *

Claire rushed home as fast as possible she needed to be there in time for supper or her dad just might blow a fuse. She flew through the door and yelled, "I'm home!" Her mother looked up from the pot she was currently stirring.

"Oh good your home. Can you help me by cutting up some of the green onions?"

She grins. "Sure," she replies pulling out a knife from the drawer, along with a cutting board.

"You know you're still in trouble with your father." Sandra looked around the cabinet to find something. "I can never seem to remember where I put the Italian seasoning."

"Top shelf in the very back like always." Claire couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Yeah, I know I'm still in trouble, but mom I really didn't see what the big deal is _ow_...," She felt the blade cut through her finger.

Her mother reached for her hand, "Oh dear, let's put that in cold water...huh?"

"I guess I didn't cut myself as hard as I thought." She noted seeing that her skin appeared to be unharmed. "It sure felt like it hurt. Anyway," She went back to cutting again, "As I was saying I don't see what the big deal is, I believe I'm mature enough to know how to handle myself at a party."

Grabbing a pot from the cabinet above Claire's head she continued her discussion, "The fact that you had to sneak out proves you're not mature enough."

"No. That just proves you don't trust me."

"Claire, I know you want to go to parties and meet boys I get that, but dear your father and I want what is best for you. I think if you start listening to us, maybe in due time you will see you get more freedom."

"Mom, I get that you guys are trying to protect me, but you can't protect me from everything."

"I know," she said sadly, "but don't tell your father that."

The young girl sighs, "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have sneaked out, but the truth is I had fun at that party."

They might not have heard the door open, but they heard the voice. "Sometimes fun has consequences, doesn't it, Claire-bear?"

"I'm sure paying a price," she mumbles. "I can't believe you actually made me clean out that dirty attic after grounding me for two whole weeks. I'm glad this weekend it will be over. So I can go over to Melody's this weekend right?"

"As long as her parents are there to confirm you are staying there."

"Yeah, I know the routine."

"Now that is out of the way, why don't you get your brother Lyle?" her mother suggested.

"Sure mom, I need to talk to you about something else later. It isn't dire, though." It took Sandra a moment, but she figured that Claire wanted to tell her something regarding the watch.

* * *

Gabriel walked up the stairs to his apartment; his mind ran over the events that day. He thought about what Dr. Suresh told him and he held the book tightly in his hand. He hoped to learn more about people with special abilities. It gave him hope he never had before, perhaps he was really special, and he had always wanted to be, so much.

He unlocked the door to his apartment to find his mother cooking in the kitchen. "Mom, I'm home," he greets her with a light kiss on the cheek. "I paid all the bills today, and the doctor says you should be resting."

"Oh come on doesn't my special boy deserve a good meal every night?"

"I really don't need it." He replies in somewhat of a depressed tone. She was always doing things like this for him and he felt rather guilty that he didn't live up to what she wanted him to be.

"Of course, you do you're special. So, darling you want to take your mother out this weekend?"

"I barely got the bills paid." He admitted.

"What did you spend it on?" She asked looking at the book in his hands. "You bought this book," She grabbed it and examined it, "What is this? A fantasy book." She said it with such disdain.

"No, it is about the possibility of humans with special abilities."

"Gabriel," she scolded lightly, "Why are you wasting money on such silly trivialities, truly someone as special as you can think of something better to spend money on." She grabbed the book and threw it in the trash. "Now, you won't be wasting money on any of these silly things anymore, will you?"

"No mother," he agreed. It didn't occur to him to argue how many times he bought her silly things like snow globes to add to her collection, which was growing rather large in size.

"Speaking of which, I think it is time you sell your comic books. Perhaps, you could use the money for something more productive, like law school."

"My comics aren't very high in value." He admitted.

"Then why did you spend money on them?"

"Mom, they were twenty-five cents a piece." He retorted.

"Ever penny, dime, and quarter counts." she almost snarled as she grabbed his face almost digging her nails into his face, "Waste nothing and you will be able to reach your full potential! You need to go to law school so someday you can work your way up to President." He doesn't want to tell her that he doesn't want to go to law school. He feels such guilt by his lack of desire, but his passion has always been related to the field of engineering; he likes to know why things work the way they do as well as building things and figuring how to improve technology. It had always been his aspiration.

He had gone to college for about a month to become one, but due to the fact that his mother didn't approve of the local community college, he found himself dropping out. Anything less than an Ivy League school wouldn't do. As far as engineering went, well...his mother saw that just as unimportant as being a watchmaker. "You shouldn't waste your time in that shop forever."

"I know," he admits, "but it was fathers." She hated that he worked in his father's shop, but after his father left, the chain of events that followed seemed to have trapped him there. As the years went on he still found himself stuck in that shop. Her determination to convince her precious boy to do something speculator just increased. It was, in a way, painful for him, he wanted to give her what she wanted, yet he couldn't help but face the reality that the best way to take care of her was to keep running the shop.

Her eyes flared, "Your father abandoned us, he was a nobody, you owe him nothing!" Her nails dug deeper making an impression in his face. "I gave you everything! Don't I deserve the best?! And we both know that being a watchmaker's mother is hardly what I deserve."

"Yes, I know, I promise I will do something great." He says almost out of desperation. It frightens him when she gets like this.

She smiles as she lets him go, "Of course, you will, you are special. Now let's eat, I made your favorite." Gabriel stared at the table before him; it was rice, beef, and brown gravy. If that was his favorite...why did he never seem to enjoy it? He went to sit down. "Now, now, Gabriel, don't forget to pull out a chair for your mother."

"Of course," he replied, pulling her seat out, "Ladies first."

"Now, bless the meal." He went to bow his head and said some meaningless words that would please his mother. Secretly, he prayed that he really did have some kind of ability.

* * *

"Huh," Angela woke up actually frightened, her eyes widened, and a sense of panic had seized her for a moment. When she was younger her dreams had frightened her all the time. Mostly, because she didn't understand them, but that fear faded years ago and it seemed nothing could surprise her, but now she was in her designer gown staring into the night wishing her husband was there instead of at work, apparently the destruction of New York was a shock. Though, that wasn't the most horrific thing. No, it is the horrible sins she must commit in order to protect her family. It was something she would rather not do. The vision has to come true and all she is left to do is encourage the good ones and clean up after the bad ones.

She found herself dialing the cell phone. "Hello Daniel," she greets calmly, "I had a dream I will think you find interesting."

* * *

_**Author's Commentary: **_Author Notes will be things I think are important to read, commentary will just be further explanation of the story and random comments.

So this was off the what if question of 'What if Claire met Gabriel Gray before he became Sylar?' I was quite curious about this, and how everything else would play out. Did somebody else do this for another pairing? Anyhow so far that is what I can up with. Some events that occur in the show may be written in somehow, and others won't. I'm not a hundred percent sure; I know Angela and Noah are going to play a huge part of it, of course. I want to also include Peter, and some of the others, but I don't know how all that will work out for this plot. I know some things may feel a little off, but I went over this again and again, it still isn't where I want it. I debated if I should post it yet. It has been on my computer for about three weeks, I wrote a lot of Sylaire stuff, some I don't know if I'll ever post, because I'm not sure how it will be perceived. All of it is probably A.U.

So from what I've seen of the show, Gabriel was probably psychology abused by his mother. My theory is that she was never happy with the choices he made unless it was exactly what she wanted and I bet she wasn't even happy then. She was probably controlling, critical, and constantly reminding him of what she thought he should be. I say 'special' a lot on purpose, because I wanted to show that the word always seems to be on his mind.

With Claire and Gabriel, I was trying to show that Gabriel had a certain perception of her, a stereotypical cheerleader, but at the same time was drawn to her. Claire may have come off a little shallower then what she really is in the show, but really I was trying to show that she was a normal teenager with some of the perceptions they have, I know not all teenagers in high schools are like this, but I thought it would be believable for her character.

Reviews are always loved! But I'll live without them, I did write this mainly for my enjoyment and I hope it shows because it was fun!


	2. Normal or Special Encounters

**Author's note:** I like to give credit to Joise, who pointed out that it was possible Gabriel was physically abused because I'll probably be using more of that in my story. I also like to give credit to my two new betas, both did a wonderful job of editing, and offering good advice.

**Disclaimer:** Heroes belongs to Tim Kring. No copyright infringement intended just for entertain purposes only.

_**Be My Escape **_

**By Estelle Stafford**

**Betas: and Eris Dea Disaccordo**

**Chapter Two: **Normal or _Special_ Encounters

* * *

The rest of the day went by as it usually did, with his mother on the couch watching the evening news while he read some book on some subject matter that passed his mother's approval. She'd been bringing him more and more law books recently, and though he read them all obediently, he wasn't really interested in the material he was reading. Because really, laws are written to tell you how things are––there isn't anything to figure out. He'd rather read mathematical books.

Speaking of books he'd rather read... He looked over to the kitchen where the trash can was. Though he couldn't see it, he knew it was there––that book about _special_ people. It was calling out for him. He wants to––no, he _needs_ to learn more. Returning his gaze to the book in his hands, he sighed, realizing he'd absent-mindedly read the same page twice now.

"Are you finding anything interesting?" his mother asks.

He searched for a moment, knowing that if he doesn't have something to say, his mother will be become angry. "Yes, I find the part about credit law interesting. Do you know the statue of limitations for collecting some debts is only about five years?"

"Dear, are you lying to me?" she asks calmly, but he was already tensing instinctively, feeling the temperature in the air surrounding his body change at her words.

"No," he replied, trying to placate her, but she stands and snatches the book from his hands. Then she slaps him.

"Don't you ever dare lie to me!" she snarls, and then slaps him again, "_Ever!_"

He doesn't say anything until he is sure she is done. "I'm sorry, Mother." He'd been trying to read criminal law, but had no clue what he read. He only knows the thing about credit law because it had to do with some kind of math problem. She'd caught his lie and now he is afraid once more.

Virginia hates it when her son looks afraid, because he is her _special_ child and he isn't supposed to be afraid of her. It isn't her fault, though. If Gabriel just did what he was supposed to do, she would never get like this.

"My precious boy," she murmured, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. There is something about it that makes him feel ill. "You know it is not a good thing to lie to your mother, don't you? It makes me angry and you shouldn't make me mad, dear. _Special_ boys don't upset their mothers."

Suddenly, he understands why he feels sick––it's guilt. He screwed up again.

"Yes mother, I'm sorry that I lied to you. I have no excuse for my actions." He looks down shamefully.

"All is forgiven," she replied with a small, satisfied smile. "Go back to your book." She returns to her chair, listening to the TV.

A firm feminine voice from the T.V. came on, "Nathan Petrelli has officially announced that he is running for Senate. Mr. Petrelli is a prestigious lawyer–" Gabriel almost cringed when he heard the word 'lawyer' from the newscaster, just when he thought he could breath.

"See dear, law school. That is how you become as successful as him," she said, smiling at him. "You can do it; you're more special than he is."

"Yes, of course, Mother." He glances at the clock, and notes it is running perfectly. He also sees what time it is. "Mother, the doctor says you need your rest. You should go to bed." The truth is, he just wants to breathe because when she is in there he feels suffocated by the guilt, but he is also trying to be the perfect son by being concerned with her health.

"Oh, thank you, my _special_ boy." She turns off the TV and pats him lightly on the face, before retreating to her room.

Gabriel watched as her door closed, then walked silently to the kitchen and retrieved the book from the trash. He takes the cover off the law book than switches it with the other book. Then he tosses the law book into the trash, and minutes later, he finds himself reading something he actually enjoys.

* * *

Sandra is a bit surprised by what her daughter just told her, and has currently stopped washing the dish in her hand. "So, you're actually going to work to get your father a present." It is overwhelming to think of how proud and sad she is that her daughter is growing up so fast.

"It really isn't that big of deal is it?" Claire takes the dish from her mother before she wears it down completely––because that is the fifth time Sandra has run the rag against it––and wipes it dry. "A lot of teens work these days, Mom. I'm only giving up a couple hours of my weekend for a little while. I mean, I like my Saturday's, but I still get to go over to Melody's this week. Besides, this is the perfect gift for dad, isn't it? And since you're going to help pay for it, I should do my part too."

"I know you don't think it isn't a big deal, but Claire–" Sandra stops in mid-sentence and hugs her daughter. "Oh, honey, I'm so proud of you."

"Oh Mom, please don't start that." Even though nobody is around, she still feels embarrassed about the attention, but in a good way. "It really isn't a big deal."

"I'm just having a mother moment," Sandra said as she pulled the drain out of the sink with her free hand. Her voice becomes contemplative. "I am allowed one of those once in a blue moon, aren't I?"

"I suppose," Claire sighed with a smile. She would never tell her mother out loud, but she preferred Sandra happy with her rather than disappointed, though with her being a cheerleader, the need to please her peers would probably make sure it wouldn't happen often.

"Oh, okay." She lets go of her hold on Claire. "It's over, anyway. I'll tell your father there are cheerleader practices on Saturday mornings."

"Okay," she agreed, putting away the dishes that have now been dried.

Sandra raised a brow, "You do realize I'll being lying to your father."

Claire grinned. "It is for a good cause." Her mother just shook her head.

* * *

Angela stands up and raises her glass, "As a mother I could never be prouder of my two sons, my dear Peter has devoted his life tending to the care of others–" Peter just stands there, knowing his mom was merely putting on a show, and that everyone knew who she was really proud of, "–and Nathan is going to run for Senate." Applause sounded throughout the crowd. On any other day it might have bothered him, but something of far more importance was on his mind––a dream.

_He was standing on the edge of a building, and for a moment he felt a sense of fear, but then he just felt a strong desire to let go, to prove something; of what, he isn't sure. He steps off the edge and falls. Normally, that it is when he jolts awake trying to figure out why he would dream about himself committing suicide, but a few mornings ago, Charles, the man he cared for until he died, told him to finish the dream and for once he does. This time, he thinks he is going to hit the ground, he realizes that he can fly and does it._

_He flies._

"Peter, you seem to be in a pleasant mood." He gazes down and gives Heidi a smile and a half hug.

"You look good," he says with sincerity. She was no longer as pale, as she was once when she was lying in the hospital bed. There doesn't seem to be much sadness in her eyes as before, though it was still there.

"Thank you," she replies with a polite smile. "So do you. Are you going to tell why you're so happy?"

He pulls himself up. "I just been having a good night sleep," he says with a shrug.

"Oh, good dreams?" She was rather curious as she gazed up at him.

"_Really_ good dreams."

"So, is it Simone?" There was a mischievous twist to her formerly polite grin.

"Simone?" He is a bit surprised that she even knows about his interest in Simone. Nathan, his own brother, didn't even know, but then again the guy never paid much attention to any one else's life unless it had direct influence on his.

"The girl you are dreaming about," she clarified, that teasing smile still on her face.

"I wasn't dreaming about a girl, it was just a nice dream you know. I was flying." As his mind wanders back to the memory, his eyes seemed to reveal his distance from reality.

"You were flying," Heidi echoed. "Yeah that does sound nice," she says in a slightly melancholic tone, and Peter is immediately brought back to reality with regrets. The woman can't even walk and he has to bring up flying––it was insensitive of him.

"I didn't mean to..." She grabs his hand reassuringly.

"It's okay, I just was agreeing with you," she says in a tone laced in sorrow, because it is the bittersweet truth. She gazes over at Nathan, "I better go on over there and be the supporting wife that I am." Peter just watches her leave.

Angela disappears into the crowd after finishing her speech and giving her wonderful son, Nathan, a hug. Then, as she places a kiss on her husband's lips in a way of greeting, she notes Daniel standing near by, along some other important figures.

"Darling," her husband greets. "That was a rather lovely speech. I don't see what was necessary of mentioning Peter though."

"Nonsense," she adjusted his tie a bit. "There is no shame in showing a little pride in both our boys, just because Nathan is running for senate does not mean Peter's job is less important." She didn't really believe in what she just said. It was true that she loved both her sons dearly, but though she never expresses it openly, her disappointment in Peter was obvious.

He was not like his father at all. He was too kind and noble by nature, attributes most mothers desire in their children. However, she knew that Peter could not and would not do the things that were necessary to 'heal the world', as Daniel had phrased it. His extraordinary abilities would not be enough to account for this weakness, one which Nathan never had. He was much like his father––whatever the circumstance, he would not be move once his mind was made up. Peter however was easily influenced and persuaded, she had done it to him all his life with very little guilt. She admitted sometimes she was grateful for his gullibility, because it made it easy for her to make him useful.

"You know," Daniel said as he raised his glass, "I believe there is no shame in living an ordinary life, your son Peter will help many people in such a simple job. In his own way he will help heal the world."

"Daniel," she smiles politely, knowing he was just playing the devil's advocate, testing her; she said, "how are you this evening?"

"I'm having a wonderful time. I do find it ironic that Peter is the one in the medical field, yet you don't believe he is the one who has the ability to take care of our infection. Charles believed in your son strongly."

"He is a nurse," Arthur said still in disbelief. "It will take someone who can handle real pressure under dire circumstances, not someone who will hold your hand while you're dying. While Peter's cause is noble, it is Nathan who rises under pressure, and will be able to heal this inflicted world."

Daniel nodded. "Of course, I just wanted to be absolutely certain that you are sure you're making the right choice, Angela. To heal infection you must go inside it, and you must send the right medicine. I just want to be sure that you have no doubts about your decision." He twirled the glass around. "That Nathan will be the pill that heals this world from its vile disease, a true hero."

"I agree, and I believe I found the source that will allow us to go inside." Both Arthur and Daniel were intrigued.

Angela took a polite sip of her glass, and recalled one of her visions from long ago. It had seemed to have little relevance back then, but she knew eventually it would be revealed to her. A man in a watch shop with a strong wave of desire to be 'special' and an ability she believes that will assist them.

"A man who has little importance in this world will be our pill," she said, her eyes distant and reflective. "A mere watchmaker's son."

* * *

Claire found herself in amidst of discussion she really did not want to be involved in. "I'm telling you, she's a whore." Jackie stated firmly.

"And how do you know?" Claire wondered. She didn't understand how Jackie came to these conclusions and why the hell she had to say them out loud.

"The entire football team has told me." She declared rather proudly. Claire wasn't surprised––Jackie could get a priest to confess to murder, if she wanted to.

"_Really_?" Melody gasps before she covers her mouth in complete disbelief. It was a rather scandalous thing in any school to sleep with more than two people, but the whole a team of boys was rather shocking. "You can't be serious! It can't be true!"

"It is," Jackie insists.

Claire didn't really like where this conversation is going, especially since the topic of their discussion, Lauren, is in her eye-sight. "Guys do you really think we should be talking about her, right now?" She tilts her head in the direction of the brunette, both girls turn their heads, and Jackie puts her hands on her hips looking as if she were the ultimate judge and jury, in this school, she was.

"Why? Everyone knows she is a whore!" she declares out loud earning several gazes, just like she wanted. Claire feels a bit sick, as her stomach reacts to the guilt and horror she feels. The poor girl is just trying to get to her class, but now everyone was staring right at her. She felt a strong urge do something, anything, but with Jackie around there isn't much she can do.

"Shut up." Claire sees that a knight in black has come to the rescue of this damsel in distress––Zach. She used to be really close to him, they hung out all the time until she joined the cheerleading squad, then everything changed. That was when she realized what a powerful force Jackie is, because she forced Claire to choose between her friend and the squad, and choose Claire did. Sometimes, she has regrets––actually, she has them almost all the time.

"What do you want, freak?" Jackie got right up in his face and shoved him.

"Don't touch me," he snapped. "You might infect me."

"Oh please, the one with the disease is you!" She points at him. "You probably got them from her." She looks over at Lori.

"Please," she begs, "I just want to get to class."

"Fine," Jackie steps aside for a moment letting the other girl head to class, but before she has completely passed her the blond lets out her foot, causing the girl to tumble. Lori tried to grab onto Melody, who was freaked out and squealed.

Claire just remains silent as she watches Zach help Lauren up and escort her to class. When he looks back, she exchanges a brief a glance with him. She knows he hates her, and she really can't blame him, but she did what she had to get by in this hell known as high school. It was kind of lonely, because she did miss Zach.

"Don't pay attention to the bitch squad," he says loudly to Lori before vanishing down the hall completely.

"Whatever," Jackie puts a hand up in the air. "Who the hell does he think he is? Hmm, we need to put that freak in his place."

"Yeah," Melody agreed. "But how are we going to do it?"

"Um yeah," Claire added half-heartedly, but not really likely where this subject was going, she decided to alter its course. "I was wondering if I can still come over this weekend to your house." She looks directly at Melody, but before the girl can speak Jackie pipes up.

"No can do, we are all going to the beach this weekend."

"Yeah," Melody added excitedly, "my parents have a house near the ocean,"

"It isn't ocean front property," Jackie commented, "but it will be better than hanging around this place this weekend."

"Oh, that sounds fun," Claire replied, half disappointed, half happy. She had been looking forward to spend time alone with Melody, who was actually a nice person when she wasn't around Jackie. Then on the other hand, she hadn't been to the beach in awhile, and not even the school queen-bee can ruin that for her. "When are you going?"

"We're leaving Saturday, first thing in the morning," Melody seemed really pleased, probably that Jackie was acknowledging that her place was worth going to, even though she insulted her at the same time.

"Like how early?"

"Six. It's a long drive."

"Can't you wait a couple of hours?" Claire wondered, realizing that the watch shop didn't open until eight.

"What, not enough time to fix your face, just get up early?" Jackie sneered.

"No, I just got a job."

"Oh, that is okay," Melody replies, "I could..."

"We are not cutting back our time in the sun for you," the queen of the school interrupts. "If you need to work, then don't come." Claire knew Jackie thought getting a job was a useless thing, because you ought to manipulate your parents to give what you want, but Claire just didn't have that kind of power over them.

"It is just that I already promised and..."

Jackie holds her hand up in her face to silence her. "Fine, if you think money is more important than our friendship, go on ahead." She flips her hair and walks away. Melody shrugs her shoulders as she follows obediently.

Claire screams as the girls disappear and lucky for her the bell is shrilling for the end of lunch. She heads back to class. She has no clue that she is being watched.

* * *

As Gabriel closes shop, he finds that he is very relieved and excited to see Dr. Suresh has returned. Excitement, does he ever remember feeling that? "I'm sorry," he replies, "I had a prior engagement to tend to, otherwise I had would have been here sooner."

"That is okay, I would have been back here tomorrow just like everyday." Gabriel replies with self-hatred hidden within those words.

"I see, well," he gripped his briefcase. "I was wondering, did you read my book?"

"Most of it," he replies. "Should we go inside?"

"Of course. What did you think of it?"

"I found it interesting," he admits unlocking the door, "Do you think I am one these people?" he asks rather eagerly. "I'll confess that though it seems hard to believe, I want it to be true."

"I believe it is," Dr. Suresh says opening up his briefcase, "I have several questions I need to ask you, then I'll have to run some tests, I hope you don't mind me stopping by for the next few days."

"That will be fine."

"Well, let's get started then." He pulls out a laptop. "I'll start with the obvious, have you noticed anything different about yourself."

Gabriel felt a bit frustrated, he didn't know he was already supposed know, then again he should, it would make sense. "No," he said.

"I wouldn't worry about it, perhaps you just haven't been meeting the right circumstances to use your ability. It happens. A lot of abilities manifest under an increased amounts of stress." He explains in a purely scientific manner. "Let me continue then," the doctor asked several questions, taking notes, before concluding their meeting of the day. Both men are severely disappointed, but neither shows it, because they are also hopeful. Gabriel hopes he is 'special' and somehow he just hasn't used his ability, and Dr. Suresh just hopes he didn't make an error on his list.

* * *

On Saturday morning, Gabriel is rather frustrated with the latest costumer and the polite tone he normally keeps is starting to slip into a tone of pure annoyance, "Sir, I'll telling you, this part costs $25," he repeats again. "I never told you $15."

"Yes, you did," he repeats almost irate. "You told me 15, if I had know you charge this much for this tiny piece of crap," he waggles the watch in Gabriel's face, "I would have gone to J.J.'s"

"I'm sorry that you found our service unsatisfactory, but that is the price, so you can pay for the part or I can take it out and send back."

"Whatever," the man grasped the watch, which Gabriel was sure he was going to get call about how the damn thing doesn't work and pulled some cash out of his wallet. "I'm never coming back, again!" He slams the money down and huffs right pass the young blond.

Gabriel notes that she is at least wearing something suitable, but even in her casual wear she was still everything he wasn't, the slightly faded jeans, the T-shirt was probably from cheerleader camp because of the tiny microphone on it. She probably just threw it together in a few minutes, and she still looks fantastic. He wouldn't even know where to begin to make himself look half-attractive. This insecurity added to the previous costumer was not putting him in a pleasant mood.

He adjusted his glasses and his brown eyes met her green ones, "Hello, Ms. Bennett," he greets in a professional tone, slight tainted with jealousy. "Follow me, and I'll show you to the back room."

"Okay." Immediately, Claire can feel that she is unwelcome; he doesn't seem pleased to see her at all. It wasn't like he expected her to be excited for her presence, but it was a bit discouraging considering she gave away a weekend at the beach to spend a couple hours to work for him. She sighs as she follows behind him. This is for her father, she reminds herself.

The place had that old dusty antique shop kind of feel, where everything seemed to be scattered everywhere, but she also sees that it seemed to be organized in a strange way. A case of watches caught her eye––they looked rather expensive, and she finds herself drifting away from him to take a better look at them.

There is one in particular that she finds exceptional beautiful, she assumes it probably took forever, because it has lots of little details. The metal work alone on the strap had to have taken weeks, then to place tiny little stones on it perfectly in the slots. The actual face of the watch was rather simple looking, but Claire was sure it took a bite of time to make one from scratch. She was absolutely sure this one was made from scratch because she never seen one like it. She wants to get a closer look because she is sure there is something written on the face of the watch. She is surprised to find the glass case isn't locked. She slips it open–

"Please don't touch that!" She wondered for a brief second if she was about to touch something sacred because his voice was harsh and protective. "That particular piece took a year to create."

He doesn't even remember why he made it, only that he felt like he had to, and that he felt like he truly accomplished something after he was done. He showed it to his mother, hoping she would love it, but she threw it across the room breaking the tiny stones off of it. He shouldn't have, but he fixed it again, it almost felt like he had to.

Claire was actually a bit startled, "Sorry, I just thought it was pretty."

He is a surprised by her comment, "Not really," is his simply reply though when he originally made it he thought it was quite lovely too, but his mother is right about everything and she had hated it.

"Oh." Claire uncertainly. "So what I am going to be doing?"

"Well, this time I'll give you a simple job." She feels a little offend, because he says it in a very cold tone, indicating he might think she is stupid. He just decides to give her something that will keep him out of his way, because he just can't deal with her right then. "You can just dust the shelves." He grabs a container, hands her a rag and a can of polish, then leaves her alone.

* * *

Claire is bored out of her mind and she doesn't handle it very well. She hopes that if she finishes fast enough she can do something more interesting or maybe be in talking distance with him. Though it didn't seem he would talk to her very much, and normally she wouldn't talk to someone like him, but she would converse with a cat if it meowed back right now!

She moved some more stuff around, but puts some stuff way too close the edge, and when she goes to rearrange something else, tons of tiny pieces scattered everywhere on the ground, startling her second because it had shattered the quiet. She lets out a brief squeal.

Gabriel who had been currently on the phone was surprised by the shattered sound and slight scream. He quickly dashed in to see what the matter was.

Claire for a moment, couldn't help but think of Clark Kent and Superman, because Mr. Gray flew in to save the day. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she replies. That expression of slight concerned turned rather quickly against Claire's favor when he looked down. He was obviously not happy to see the various parts on the floor.

He looks up at her. "You're lucky none of these parts are expensive, and that I keep those kinds of parts under lock and key, other wise you would be paying for more than your father's watch."

"I'm sorry," she replies, and Gabriel expects some kind of excuse, he probably shouldn't have so many parts on one shelf, he realizes he just can't get anything right. "I should have been more careful," she adds, "I was kind of distracted with the thoughts in my head." The thought, _a cheerleader who thinks, that is a change of pace_, ran through his mind, but he doesn't say it out loud. "I don't handle boredom well." He is truly surprised; she believes it is all her fault. It is a first for him, for everything is always somehow his fault. The bad mood he was in subsides for a bit.

"It's okay. I'm going back in front, finish up here," He looks down at his watch, "You have about hour and half left, come and get me when you are done with this."

It was another half hour of silence and painful boredom before she was finished with dusting. She quickly made a run towards the front.

"I'm done!"

Her excitement surprises him a bit, but he just simply replies, "Alright, I'll show you how to clean the parts." He retrieved another type of cloth, very soft, and then some kind of cleaning solution. Claire came closer, to see what he was going to do. "These parts," he pulls out a box of various parts from the shelf, "need cleaning. Most of the parts in this place need cleaning," he amended as he gently placed a part in the cloth and then let a little solution drip onto it. "Please try not to get too bored, because I preferred if you didn't accidentally dump this solution, everywhere."

"Okay," she said as he hands over the materials to her.

"Good."

After awhile of repeatedly cleaning several parts she speaks up. "So what's your name?"

"Mr. Gray," he placed the back cover on the watch.

"I know that. I meant what's your first name?"

"I don't see how that is relevant to doing your job." He wrapped the watch in paper then placed it in a box, with the store's name on it.

"It's not," she admitted peering over his shoulder to observe what he is doing. "I'm just curious."

"Well, I'm not going to give in to your _curiosity_."

She rolled her eyes. "Is asking for your name really that unreasonable of a request? My name is Claire Bennett, by the way," she said. "See? Now you know my first and last name, why not return the favor?"

"I didn't ask for your name," he retorted. He couldn't understand why she was so persistent, because after the two months is up, she won't even remember his last name. Why waste her time on a first name she'd just as easily forget?

"Oh, come on." She suddenly found this was curing her boredom.

"I'm not telling you my name."

"Please?"

"No," he replies. "I have work to do,"

"Your name can't be _that_ bad."

"I assure you, my name is not awful. I just don't see the need of you knowing it. Mr. Gray is fine."

"But I wanna know, and I don't see why you don't tell me." She crosses her arms.

"Stop it," he rubs his forehead out of frustration, "It is unprofessional, and it is time for you to go." He finds himself utterly relieved as he realized his words were true.

"Fine," she says, but before she heads out the door. "I'll find out soon enough."

* * *

**Author's Commentary: **

Well this story as you see will have its own thing going on, but will indeed have events from the show mainly stuff that happens in the time frame of season one. Not everything will happen of course, that is why it is an A.U. The story mainly is just about one side trying to prevent Gabriel from becoming Sylar and the other side to make sure he does, and of course to project the relationship of Claire and Gabriel. If you're curious, the main characters are Angela, Noah, Elle, Nathan and Peter. I hope to throw in Hiro, as he is one of my favorites, but I haven't decided.

Yeah I totally see Gabriel/Sylar absolutely loathing the idea of law school, just seems like the kind of person who would be happy taking things apart and figuring how they work.

I don't know if you can tell but there is already a wedge between Claire and her old friends. Yes, the relationship between Gabriel and Claire is supposed to be a tad bit slow, but I believe they are start form a bond in the next chapter, the plot will start picking up soon, I hope.

**Clark Kent: **Fall in love with the Clark Kent comparison, it is awesome. I don't know who started it, but I love it. You can't tell me he doesn't look like Clark Kent. I suspect that I will use it in other stories, I don't know if I'll bring it up again in this one, maybe.

**Updates:** The chapters will be about 6-10 pages. I suspect about once or twice a month.

**To Reviewers:** Oh my gosh! I praise you all. I am unworthy, I am unworthy. Anyhow, yes I love all you comments and will try to reply to everyone. I am afraid, some of you might be disappointed, but hopefully not. I worked on it forever. Unfortunately, this is probably the slowest plot I ever have to write, but it has to be, which means it drags a bit. As a reader I be like, get to the action, "NOW," but as I seen the ones that are slower, are usually pretty good.

**Random:**

Uh, I think this one was longer, than the first and as you know I had the first chapter on my laptop for three weeks before I posted, so yeah I work on it a lot, too. I worked on this chapter almost everyday, and one for another story, but surprise, little nephews don't like you to play on the computer too much, and neither do sisters, or mothers. Needless to say, somebody is always wanting me for something, so I only get so much time to write and I have to get into a zone to do it, too. So I never get as much done as I want.

Anyone know anything about watches? I been looking, no really good sites that explain it to people like me, who just don't get it, meaning I need an idiot's guide.

Since this is my random section I'm going to throw this in here: Zachary Quinto is has the most expressive eyes I have ever seen! Oh and he is hot overall! I love seeing him in interviews because he acts totally different from his characters, he seems to take acting really seriously, though, he also seems to be a really fun guy. Though, I don't know because my misfortune is I have never met him, he does seem sincerely to an all around amazing guy.


	3. Friends are Rarely Forever

**Disclaimer:** Oh Zachary Quinto would you please let me borrow you for awhile...um Tim Kring owns Heroes.

**Posted Date: **

**Author:** Estelle Stafford

**Beta/Editors: Silver. Candle and Erisdiscordo **

_**Be My Escape**_

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* * *

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Chapter Three:

Friends are Rarely Forever

Claire's weekend was already turning lame, just as she had known it would. What was she supposed to do now that she was done with working at the shop? Her friends had already left for the beach, so she couldn't count on them this time. She glanced over at her mom, who had picked her up promptly after two hours.

"Hey," she greets.

"So when do I need to drop you off at Melody's?" She asked.

"Uh... that got canceled, they decided to go to the beach and they had to leave at six and the shop didn't open until eight, so...," She didn't gaze up at her mom, she wasn't sure, but something made her feel awkward, probably because she knew her mother would go all well..._mother_ on her.

"Oh," Sandra is rather surprised, "So you decided to stay and work, instead of go out and have fun on the beach." She said it slowly, so it would sink in her mind, because teens didn't just work when they could have fun. "And I take it by your 'end of the world' look that work was boring."

"Yes, _very_ boring," she replied with a roll of her eyes. "I didn't even learn anything, I just parts! I don't even know what they're called or what they do!"

Sandra hid her amusement. "Honey, I don't think you would find it anymore interesting knowing which parts you're cleaning anyway," she teased, but then frowned, remembering why her daughter was upset in the first place. "I'm just sorry that it ruined your entire weekend, though it's probably for the best. I don't think your father and I would have let you go anyway." What she really meant was Noah wouldn't have let her go, nor would he let Claire convince her mother to let her go.

"I figured out as much when I was weighing my options," Claire replied, in a way that reflected how she felt—sadness. She really did not want to spend her weekend doing absolutely nothing. That was just pathetic.

Her mother frowned for a bit, before smiling as an idea popped in her head, "You know, I was thinking you could practice your driving some more."

"Really?" Claire squealed, perking up instantly. "You're going to let me _drive_?" She couldn't believe it, because her mom had been rather fearfully attached to the handle above her head the last time she'd let Claire drive the car.

"Well, you haven't been getting much practice, between your father's work and mine, as well as your extracurricular activities. So, why don't we take this opportunity while we are both free?"

"Thanks mom!" Claire squealed delightedly as she gave her mom a hug, one that made Sandra decided that an hour or so of letting Claire's driving scare her halfway to death's door was worth it.

* * *

Gabriel Gray has very few things that help him from going insane from his dull and uneventful life. One of those precious few activities is his occasional trip to the comic book store. It was nice to escape the monotonous reality he lived in once in a while, as he dove into the pages of a fantasy world, but that wasn't the only reason he liked to go. The closet thing he had to friendship—which was nothing more than someone to have some semblance of a conversation with—was with a few people who worked here.

Before entering, he shuts off his cell phone, and then he notices that the one on duty is Alex. He is the one person that Gabriel truly thinks he could be friends with, had his mother not constantly demanded his attention.

Alex looks up at him with a small, but welcoming smile. "Hey Gabriel," the younger man says as he adjusts his glasses. "What are you looking for today?"

"I was thinking of just scrolling through the discounted bins."

Alex nodded in understanding. "Low on cash?" he asked, then glanced around quickly before leaning over to whisper to him. "Listen, the boss is out, so nobody is going to say anything if you want to take a peak at the 9th wonders comic book."

Gabriel could see his sort-of friend's eyes glittering with mischief and excitement, so he feigned interest. "Oh, is that a new one?"

Alex nodded quickly, reminding Gabriel of the eager little children he often passed in the park. "Yeah, it's our best seller, so you might want to look at it first before it gets sold out."

"Okay, sounds good," he replies and, not wanting to offend his companion, grabs a copy, opening it up and skimming through it.

He finds himself completely lost after the first few pages. After reading it once, he finds himself going back and looking at one particular image—the man that looks like him. He supposed this was merely a coincidence, because he does have rather generic features, thus ensuring that many people look like him. The blond girl is a common character as well, even with her red and white cheerleading outfit.

The strange thing about the comic was the words written in the white speech bubbles. It sounded like some of the same things he discussed with the young, blond Miss Bennett.

Highly intrigued, Gabriel looked up at Alex and said, "I changed my mind. I'll take this one. Are there any others like this?"

Alex smiled knowingly at him. "It is pretty good isn't it?"

"Yes, it is rather interesting," he confessed.

"There is only that one so far, but I'm pretty sure a new one will be out soon," Alex told him, then leaned in to whisper once more. "The boss has been yelling in the phone about 9th wonders, so I assume he's trying to get copies of the next issue."

Gabriel nodded. "I guess I'll have to come back and pick up the next one when it comes in."

Alex nodded, then brightens up. "You know man, if you left me your number, I could let you know when it comes in."

"That won't be necessary," Gabriel replied quickly, and Alex deflated somewhat. "My mother is probably home by now."

"Oh, how is she doing?"

"She is alright," he answered simply. The last thing he wanted was to talk about his mother.

"That's good," Alex said, smiling a little before eyeing the door. "You ready to check out? It looks like more customers are coming in."

"Yes," Gabriel nodded, handing him the money.

Once he'd exited the comic book store, he pulled out his phone and frowned. There were several phone calls from his mother already. She must be worried sick. He thought she would be out late with her friend Emma, but apparently he'd miscalculated. He slipped the comic book inside his jacket, into a hole he had long ago made so his mother wouldn't see such a guilty purchase, and started for home.

* * *

Sandra made it through an hour of Claire's driving, and she had to admit that progress had been made. Claire had a handle of the accelerator and break pedals. It was her fondness for the accelerator—and her partiality for almost ramming head first into a rather large building—that made her aware it was time to call it quits.

"Well, dear," Sandra cleared her throat, glad that her panic was beginning to subside as Claire brought the car to a slow stop, "I think we should stop for today, and I can drop you off at the mall."

Claire pouted as she handed her mom the keys, "Why can't I drive to the mall?" she asked as she got out of the car to exchange seats with her mom.

"Believe me," she said, her eyes widen slightly to emphasize her point. "You are not ready to drive with other cars on the road."

"I'll never be ready if I don't get practice." Claire retorted rather logically.

Sandra was stumped for a moment. "Well...that may be true, but you need to master going around a building without nearly crashing into it first."

Claire gasped. "What?! But I never even got close enough to hitting it!" _Mothers are __**so**__ overprotective. _

"Oh, you look like you got pretty close to me," Sandra retorted. "Anyway, you said you needed a new pair of pants, and I've got a couple of things to pick up for dinner tonight, so I'll drop you off and give you 50 bucks."

"Sounds like a plan," Claire agreed. She knew it was some form of bribery, but did not care. After all, shopping was shopping!

Her mother quickly drove her over and gave her the promised cash. "I'll be back in hour," she told Claire, who made sure nobody was watching before giving her mom a quick hug.

"Bye mom," she yelled, dashing quickly into the mall in an elated mood. It was hard to be depressed when you get both the chance to drive and money for new clothes.

She wandered around a while looking for a decent pair of pants, when she spotted Zach sipping a drink. She had a sudden urge to go talk to him. It was deep in the pit of her stomach, making her feel almost sick, because somewhere she knew it was the right thing to do. Besides, neither Jackie nor Melody was there, and there was nobody to stop her, so she made her way to him, just as he was tossing his drink in the trash.

He turned around, slightly surprised to realize someone was standing next to him, but when he realizes who it is, he gives her a glare. "What do _you_ want?"

The hostility made Claire shrink back. She hadn't expected to be greeted like that.

"Nothing... I... I just...I thought it was brave of you standing up for Lauren. You know Jackie is going to try and make your life a living hell now."

Zach scoffed, but seemed more receptive now that she'd stroked his ego. "How much worse can it be when I'm on the bottom of the totem pole?" he said, his tone indicating he doesn't give a damn about what Jackie or any of her clones think.

"Yeah, but Jackie has her ways, trust me on that one. You really should be careful," she insisted, because she knew what her so-called friend was truly capable of.

"Look Claire," he sighs exasperatedly. "I know you're trying to be nice and all, but we aren't _friends_ anymore. You decided that when you went with Jackie, remember? So stop worrying about me. I can handle myself."

She knew how true that was, unfortunately. His family wasn't the easiest to deal with, but he always managed to come out on top of it. After his parents divorced, he helped his mother by getting a job, and he often makes movies to deal with his problems. Claire has seen quite a few of his videos on the net, and they were very good. She wished she could tell him that she was proud of him. She wished he'd believe her.

"Yeah I remember." There is a slight tinge of sadness in her voice, because she really does remember the happier, more carefree times she'd had in his company. She can recall the times she has gone to his house for many things—just to hang out, to talk about serious issues like wanting to meet her real parents, school, anything at all. She had shared so much with him, and yet she'd willingly tossed their friendship aside for a chance to be popular.

She was such an idiot.

Sighing she smiled tightly at him. "Well, I guess I'll just see you around then."

"Sure," he replied coolly. "I gotta go my mom is expecting me home soon."

* * *

Gabriel was trying to get home rather quickly, because he knows his mother is probably panicking. His blind rush makes him crash into someone familiar.

He doesn't recognize her at first—merely trying to help her up as fast as he can while grabbing onto the papers that were flying around them. "I apologize, I was distracted by—" His eyes finally met hers, and they both find themselves in moment of reminiscent shock.

"Gabriel, is that really you?" The disbelief isn't from the fact that he looks different then he did the last time they saw each other. It was because she hadn't seen or heard from him in such a long time.

Gabriel himself could see that she'd changed her style a bit. When he first met her, her hair was worn in a bizarre and creative manner, usually braided or held by colorful hair clips. Her clothes had been decorated in random designs that she'd created herself.

But now she wore a black suit that was rather professional-looking and took away much of her individualism. Her brown hair was in a high bun, though she wore rather plain black shoes.

A warm smile graced her face as he handed her the last paper. "I haven't seen you since you dropped out, and you promised to keep in touch," she scolded with light harshness with and much more sorrow for a missed opportunity. "I tried calling you several times. Why didn't you return any of my calls?" She pulled herself up off the ground and stood facing him, and though she was much shorter than him, somehow he felt as though there were on the same level.

"I'm sorry, I was rather busy at the shop," he replied simply, though he knows the excuse won't appease her.

"Yeah, I was pretty busy too, but I would have always made time for _you_." There is something in her tone, something he can almost name, but can't.

"I..." He hadn't a clue what to say. Every one of those messages had reached his ears, and each time it seemed he had the intention of returning them, the opportunity just slipped away.

"You know, Professor Campbell gave away the assistant job to some random girl. She worked out okay I guess, but he complained that she didn't understand half as much as you did. Your roommate Justin is engaged to that Amy girl, you know the one you mistaken for his girlfriend at the time he was dating someone else. It is quite ironic isn't it, now?"

Gabriel nodded, remembering the encounter. It had been an honest mistake, he had said his girlfriend was coming by and to let her in, so he had. Turns out Amy hadn't been his girlfriend and thought Gabriel was inviting her in for a good time. There were quite a few misunderstandings that night, before it was concluded that he hadn't stole Justin's girlfriend and that his current girlfriend was actually some fiery redhead named Casey.

"Yeah, it is just sad you know, you missed so much and I really had hoped you would have stuck around."

"I had hoped so too," he confessed. It had been his intention to return, but his mother had been rushed to the hospital due to a fit of panic and he believed his place was with her.

"Why didn't you? I know it wasn't because you were struggling in class. Gabriel, we were... We could have been friends, but... I just didn't get it." It is there, she had felt something so long ago, but she tried to not name it, nor confess to it.

"Things came up."

This didn't sit well with her either. "Why didn't you come back?"

"It just didn't work out." He is deliberately trying to avoid giving her a real answer. People just do not ever get to see what is going inside of him. He very much fears of what would happen if he trusted someone with his problems and feelings.

"I'm sorry about that," she shook her head, knowing she really wasn't going to get the answer she wanted. "I gotta get going," she said, holding up her papers. "I have grad schools to apply to and a wedding to plan."

"You are getting married?" He is relatively surprised, and yet it isn't so hard to believe.

"Yeah, I don't know if you remember, Chris,"

The name triggered a face in his mind. "I remember. We got along well."

"Of course you did you two were so much _alike_..." There was something hidden underneath that word, a secret confession she wanted to admit to, but instead she glanced at her watch. "I really should go."

"It's off," he tells her reaching for her wrist. He has a feeling that this goodbye was more final than the one before. "You might want to come by and—"

"I don't think...no," she replies firmly, because there is a sort of temptation lingering and they both know it. She just walks away.

Once again, Gabriel sees another reminder of what he'd lost by living his ordinary life. He can recall a brief, awkward but enjoyable kiss, and remembers wishing for more the day he packed up his dorm room.

* * *

Claire clung tightly to the plastic bag as she made her way quickly to the front. Her mom was probably already waiting in the front, except when she gets there, and her eyes search for the familiar vehicle, she doesn't see it. After waiting a few minutes, she decides to give her mom a call and laughs when she realized she never took her cell phone off silent, and there several messages from her mother, probably just telling her she would be there a little later. Though, when she listens to them, they are the opposite of what she expected.

"_Where are you, young lady? You better be in trouble or you going to be!" _The voice is uncharacteristically frantic, leaving Claire almost frightened and confused as she presses the button for her mom's cell.

"Claire!" her mother exclaimed, "Where are you?"

"You dropped me at the mall, remember," she replied slowly and carefully.

"I don't... Oh, I'm so sorry," her mother voice is filled of relief and embarrassment. "I feel so... Sorry, I guess I just caught up in things and forgot. I feel so awful."

"It's okay. I'm waiting though," Claire replied. She was still treading lightly. Something felt wrong.

"I'm already out the door."

* * *

When Gabriel arrived home, he immediately feels a rush of guilt as he finds his mother on his floor.

What right does he have to regret his life? How could he ever let himself feel such disdain when his mother clearly needed him?

He dashes to her side and finds that she is breathing too quickly. "Mother, you need to slow your breathing down."

She reaches for him and he grips her hand, "I was..._ha_...worried about…_ha_...you."

"I'm sorry mother. I had an errand to run. I really need you to slow your breathing down or you might pass out. So breathe with me." He slows his breath as he coaches her to do the same, but she does not want to calm down.

"I called your phone several times, why didn't you answer? I thought you might have gotten hurt." Her voice is in hysteria, she her mind his circling around irrational fears of losing what is most precious to her, her son. "What would I do without my _special_ boy?"

Guilt is overwhelming him inside, because he has to lie. He rather be guilty then see her angry. "I turned off my phone because I was in place where people were reading and I didn't want to disturb them."

What ever fear was inside her begins to subside at his words and she begins to slow down her breathing. There is such relief and happiness to hear her son was studying. After a while, she has returned to normal, he gently helps her up.

"Now mother have you been taking your pills?" He has her sit down on the couch while, he made his way to the bathroom and searched quickly for her anti-anxiety pills.

"They are waste of money," she complains. "I'm perfectly fine without them. I just had a little fright is all…"

"Mother, the doctor says you need to take them if you want to stay out of the hospital. Besides, they are covered in the health insurance."

"That silly Dr. Andrews, what does she know? She doesn't even have children, my concerns are perfectly normal."

"I don't know, but she has been in the business for over ten years, so maybe she has a vague idea." There was no sarcasm, he was trying to choose his words carefully. "I just want to make sure you are alright."

"I am alright, all I need is my special boy." She reaches up to stroke his face gently and smiles. "All I need is your happiness." He doesn't tell her that he'll just be happy, if he could make her happy.

* * *

It is a few days after that incident with his mother before he hears from Dr. Suresh, but much to his disappointed, it isn't directly. He briefly wonders if he indeed has such a small amount of importance. The doctor doesn't seem to think his presence is necessary. No, instead he is greeted by a young woman with dark hair who introduces herself as Eden McCain. He greets her politely. "Hello Miss McCain."

"Please call me Eden," she replied. "Um... Gabriel."

"We are not friends; I insist that you call me by my last name."

She looks a bit irritated, but bites her lip before gracing him with a beautiful smile, "Alright, Dr. Suresh wanted to apologize for not coming here. He had some family matters to intend to." Gabriel simply nodded, not sure if he should feel relieved or not. "Anyway, he got an apartment near here. He would like it if you would come there, so he can run more intensive tests." She handed him a card with the address on it.

He hesitated for a moment. His mother would not allow it, if he told her the truth, and she would not be pleased if he caught him, but he had such a desire, one that overcame such issues.

"I will," he agreed, taking the card. "Is that all?"

"Yes, I'll see you there," she smiles politely, but at the same time she is extremely annoyed as she heads out the door.

* * *

Saturday comes arrives again, along with the young blond girl. "So what I am doing today?"

"Miss Bennett..."

"Claire."

"What?"

"I said call me Claire, I gave you my first name, I thought you would use it."

Gabriel huffs. "Fine, _Claire_, I think I will show you the register. Do you think you be able to handle that?"

She feels insulted. _W__hy does this guy automatically assume she is an idiot? _She sighs almost angrily trying to control herself. "Yeah, I can do it."

"It's simple once you learn what each button is for," he tells her and begins to explain what each button does. He also then explains how to take orders, how to enter them on the computer, and what each abbreviation meant.

He doesn't notice the looks that she is getting from the boys outside the store. They lingered, wanting to come in. After he finishes explaining to her, he gets some random parts and pulls out an old antique pocket watch, and begins working on it.

While she stands there, waiting for a customer to come in, she watches him concentrate intensely on putting a tiny spring inside the watch. Very carefully, she decides to try once more to get his name. "So are you going to tell your name?"

"I thought I have already made it clear that I will do no such thing."

"Okay, if you don't tell me I'm going to start guessing. Clark." He quirked a brow. "Well you do look like a Clark."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" His frustration seeping into his professional voice.

"You ever seen superman?"

"I think I've read a comic or two," he says reflectively, "I don't see..."

"Have you looked in the mirror? You really do look like Clark Kent."

For a brief moment he thinks of the 9th wonders comic, perhaps that is who they were trying to portray some sort of Clark Kent, but still... All the words that were said...

"Do I? Would that also mean I look like Superman?" He doesn't even know why he is asking, because she is obviously going to say no.

"Yes." He is a bit surprised but quickly hides it. "Because to look like Clark Kent, you have to look like a Superman. Though, the only way to be sure is if you take off your glasses. Will you?"

"What?" He put that spring in the wrong place again. He can feel something rising inside him, wanting to make him yell out.

"Take off your glasses."

"No,"

"Why not?"

"I'm working," he says firmly.

"Fine." She decides to save that battle for another day, tapping her fingers. She wondered briefly if anyone was going to show up at all. "So anyway... Jeff."

"I'm not telling you my name and it is no where in the vicinity of boring names like Jeff, Jack, and John."

"I'm not going to stop," she insisted. She briefly wondered why the guy hasn't kicked her out of the shop, when he was obviously completely annoyed with her. She really wasn't trying to be a pest, but she hated calling anyone by their last names. "Listen, I'm not trying to be a brat. I just really don't understand why we can't be friendly."

"Because this is a temporary arrangement," he replied, removing his glasses for a moment out of complete frustration, not realizing he was giving into one of her early requests.

"You really do like superman," she muses.

Do I? I do not see how you come up with such comparisons. Nobody has come up with such a thing before."

"Huh?" She is rather surprised, but goes to back to her early question. "Anyway, why are you so sure it is temporary?" Why was she saying such a thing? She knew this was temporary.

Loneliness, that had to be it. Melody and Jackie were refusing to talk to her and she didn't have any other friends, because she had destroyed most of those friendships.

"All of my arrangements are temporary, and do you know how hard it is to concentrate on this movement when you insist on knowing my name."

Claire smiled brightly. "That is exactly why you should just tell me! And what is a movement?"

He exhales deeply. "It is the thing that measures time. It is the internal part of the watch."

"Oh, so you mean all those parts together are called the movement."

"Yes, now well you please let me be, so I can work on it."

"Alright, I'll leave you alone for now, but I still want to know your name. It isn't Carl?"

"NO!" He gathers his things and disappears into the back.

A couple people show up and she takes their orders. It is about a half an hour later when those boys hanging around at the door decide to come in. Claire suppresses a moan, because she knows one of the idiots—he is from her math class, and thinks he really is 'all that'.

"Hello, what can I get you boys?"

"Your number," one says with a grin.

"That's not for sale," she replied simply.

"Oh, that is sad, how about a kiss?"

_Ew, not with you! _"Nope."

"Well, what _can_ we buy here?"

"This is a watch shop, you figure it out."

"Well then, if we buy one, will you come with it?" Claire rolls her eyes at their lack of creativity.

"You guys aren't getting a clue are you? This is a business and I'm not going with you anywhere."

"Oh come on, do you really want to stay here this stuffy place when you could spend the day with us?"

Suddenly, that nice voice was behind, except it wasn't that nice this time around. "You will leave her or alone and go now, or will call the cops. I don't appreciate my employees being harassed," he said.

"Geesh man, we're going!"

Claire waited until they were out of the store before speaking. "Thanks," she told him sheepishly.

Gabriel gave her a look that gravitated between annoyed and amused. A second later, it seemed to get stuck on annoyed. "I'm truly starting to wonder why I allowed you to talk me into this arrangement."

"Because you knew I wasn't going to stop asking, and that is why you should give me your name. Of course, I could always call you Clark."

Biting back a yell of frustration, he gave in. "Fine, its Gabriel. Are you satisfied?"

"Yes I am," she answered, leaning over the counter and turning her head to smiles at him brilliantly, happy that she had gotten her victory.

Gabriel is a bit taken back, how many times have people smile at him like that? It was pure, bright, no hint of sadness, disappointment or wanting. Just a simple smile.

"Gabriel," she echoed, tilting her head and looking up, as if considering his name. "That's actually not bad."

Gabriel couldn't help the scoff that escaped him. "Not bad? I'm not sure if I should be insulted or not."

"Don't be. I really like it—much better than Clark or John."

"Well of course, my mother gave it to me." Of course, he doesn't bother telling her which mother, because she is not aware that he has two mothers, and he has never told anyone that he knew his birth mother gave him that name, not even to the woman who raised him.

Claire smiles, and Gabriel almost cringes, because it has now been tainted with sorrow, "My mother gave me my name, too." She will not confess either that she is well aware it was her biological mom that bestowed her name.

It was in that moment that a connection was made. It was as if the universe had been rotating blindly until that point in time, where everything just clicked and something began to unfold, something much bigger than the both of them.

But since not even a whisper of it reached their ears, they remained unaware of the shift that just flashed through their world, tilting the balance and forcing their destinies to collide.

**

* * *

**

Author Commentary:

**Chapter Focus:** This one actually had a focus, which made the title easy to come by. Last chapter seemed out of focus. Anyhow, as you can see this was about friendships, the longing for one, and the loss of one.

**Panic Attack Scene: **I initially I wanted to end this chapter with his mother on the floor from a panic attack. I guess it is as well, because I had no plans of dwelling more than on this scene. Somebody had suggest that I make a more of scene that reflected how much she actually cares. I don't think this is what they had in mind, but I think it gets the message across, along with that she is definitely ill, probably suffered some abuse, and depression or something.

**Shelby:** I realize now I never mentioned her name, I think in the original process I do but she is the woman Gabriel runs into after the comic bookstore. Yes, I used another OC, I plan on avoiding them as much as possible, but they will pop up from time to time. Shelby will probably not be back, that was just like a chance encounter thing. I don't know if you guys ever run into somebody you haven't seen in years. I think for some people it causes some kind of bittersweetness, because of what is, what was, and what might have been. Gabriel's is probably a mixture of loss and envy. There is a sense of loss, because there was a brief connection between the two of them that seemed to be going somewhere and there is envy of course because Gabriel is stuck while she is moving on. That is all she was there for, she is not important, but I felt like that I needed to do that scene.

**Writing Process**: So the writing process for this story, has been rather fascinating, because I start by just spending several days writing various scenes I think might go in the chapter. It takes a while before I finally decide where the chapter is going, so then I'll kind of write here and there on each scene. Then I kind of fill in the gaps. Then of course I may change the wording or add to the scenes a bit, and then I edit it. Then I send it to my betas. I haven't been forcing myself at all on this, I think the result is much better than most of writings.

**Updates:** I wish I would go faster, I see people that write just as much as I do and posts like in a day. Argh, if my brain wasn't so slow of coming up with the next part...sigh...at least it is written better...I hope.


	4. Something Special

**Posted Date: 11/6/2009**

**Author: Estelle Stafford**

**Author's Note:Something weird happened when I uploaded this, so let me know if something is wrong with the format or something.** I'm purposely ambiguous about the location of the characters, I don't want to limit myself to a certain location and it cause problems for me later on. As this story is a work in progress, perhaps if I ever revise it, I'll fix these little details. I really don't want to follow the story scene by scene, I'm taking the essence of the show and putting a different spin, so a lot of things will still happen just differently, though a few might be almost or exact as they are in the show. As well as some things are going to be completely different.

**Beta: Silver. Candle (aka Kairi9889) and Eris Dea Disaccordo**

Be My Escape

**Chapter ****Four: Something Special**

**

* * *

**

"Hello, Bennet residence," he heard her voice say.

"This is Mr. Gray. Your watch is ready..." he paused for a second, knowing she'd complain if he called her something else. With a silent sigh, he breathed her name, "Claire."

Gabriel signed for the package, sat it onto the counter, and opened it up, revealing the parts for Claire's father's watch. There was a sudden wave of illogical fear, and he somehow felt that this was the end of his connection with Claire. The perky blonde who'd strolled into his shop all those days ago was no longer just 'a cheerleader'. She had a name now—Claire—and she had his name, too. They were no longer strangers; that worked together, no longer unfamiliar, and he knew this might present a difficulty of some sort, just like it was when he found out the names of other people whom he never would be friends with. With a wave of angst in his chest, he realized she was probably going to leave, and would definitely take away whatever it was she had given him in their brief encounters. He lightly shook his head. This was foolishness. She was just a teenage girl—_a beautiful young girl—_yet another reminder of what he could never have_. _He shook the thought away, stomping down on his ridiculous fears before picking up the phone and dialing her number.

"Oh, hi Gabriel," she said cheerfully. "I'm still at cheerleading practice. Can I come back after—?" "Claire, _who_ are you talking to? You're lucky to still be on the squad," he hears another voice yelling in the background, cringing because it was quite an awful sound. "Um, I gotta go, but I'll see you after as soon as I'm off. Bye!" she says in one quick breath and quickly hangs up. She made it sounded like they were friends, he mused briefly. He turned the computer screen to see what other orders to work on, and sighed when the computer screen began to flicker. Yet another thing that needed fixing.

* * *

Claire flipped her phone shut and glared at Jackie. "It only took a minute and we weren't even doing anything," she pointed out. These days she felt braver—well maybe not braver, more like extremely irritated—because she found herself snapping at Jackie more and actually voicing her opinion. The girl just would not leave her alone, constantly criticizing and snubbing her, all because she was working on Saturdays. How shallow could one person be? Apparently, in Jackie's case, a person could be very, _very_ shallow.

"I don't care! If anyone on this team is unfocused, it'll mess up the routine and do you know what happens when we mess up, huh Claire?" Unruffled at the sneer being shot at her, Claire rolled her eyes at Jackie.

"I don't know, we practice it again?" The patronizing tone Claire spoke with went unnoticed by the other blond girl.

Jackie shoved her. "Now you listen to me Claire Bennet," she snarled. "If we mess up, the football team messes up. I am cheer captain and you'll do as I say. Now give your phone."

"No, this is my phone and I'm not giving it to you."

"Give me, your phone or I'll kick you off the team." Jackie reached for it and Claire pulled her arm back.

"You can't do that!" she yelled, trying to keep her phone out of the grubby bitch's hand. "You have to have the vote of the team and—"

"My approval," Mrs. Smith said as she approached them. "I really should never leave you girls alone." Claire looked up at her favorite teacher; she was a plain, but pleasant looking woman with brown eyes, brown hair, and a slender body. She was the only one that treated her students with respect and Jackie absolutely hated her, so that was a plus. She was the team's sponsor by default, because the other one had personal issues that kept her from being involved. Mrs. Smith shot them an almost mean look. "Miss Bennet, Miss Wilcox, I suggest that both of you remember when you decide to conduct yourselves in such a manner. You also remember that we are representatives of this school." Where Claire felt shameful; Jackie did not seem phase by it at all.

"Fine. Whatever," Jackie agreed reluctantly with a roll of her eyes. Miss. Smith ignored her comments, seeing that she had already made her point and it was a waste of time to argue with the hard-headed cheerleader. She had much important things to deal with, anyway.

"Alright, let's warm up first," Mrs. Smith declared.

* * *

Claire rushed to the shop. She couldn't wait to see the watch. She just knew it was going to be great, especially after seeing what Gabriel could do with other watches. She knew her father was going to love it, and couldn't wait to give it to him. The door _dinged_ as she flew in with a grin. She stopped suddenly when she saw Gabriel Gray speaking with a much older woman than him. She had silver hair and her eyes seemed so…_cold_. "Mother, I'm sorry." His voice bothered Claire for some reason. It sounded slightly desperate.

"My precious boy, all I'm asking is for you to close up shop for a little while and go visit Harvard."

"Mother, I...can't." His voice was hoarse from the sorrow that reached to the depths of Claire's heart. She never knew one expression could hold such pain. "If I take a week off, we won't be able to pay off the bills. We are barely making it as it is."

"You are such a smart boy. Surely there is a way, dear." She firmly grabs his face in what should have been a loving gesture, but her voice was patronizing. His eyes saw Claire in the doorway and she swore she saw relief.

"Mother, I have a customer to attend to."

"Fine," she snarled, quickly releasing his face. I see what is most important to you. You're just like your _father_." That made him flinch. Claire watched as the woman disappeared into the back.

"Uh..." She was not sure what to say. "You okay? She seemed a bit harsh."

"Yes, Mother means well..." Realizing who he was talking to, he changed the subject. "I have your watch right here." He pulled out a silver box from underneath the counter. "I will show you." He slips out the watch that now shimmered with life, now glimmering at its golden best. She could hear the ticking, and had no doubt that it was in perfect time. She had, of course, noticed how picky Gabriel was with the watches being in time.

"That's great!" she practically squeals. "He'll absolutely love it, thanks." She reaches over the counter and gives him a hug. He is in complete shock. It has been so long, since someone other than his mother hugged him. He did not notice her leaving the money in the counter and barely registered her when she spoke. "I guess I'll see you on Saturday." He simply nods as he watches her run out the door to get in the car with her mom.

* * *

Isaac's eyes were white; he had no idea of what he was doing. His hands moved on their own, painting a scene that unfolded before him inside his head.

_A teenage girl wearing a pair of jeans and pink T-shirt, riding in the car with an older man who adjusted his glasses. _

"_Can I drive now?" she asks as she leans back into the passenger._

_"No. Quit asking." He is focusing on the road ahead, which looked the same as the road they passed miles before._

"_But I really can drive," she said with a small pout._

"You don't even have a license."

"_Well, I haven't exactly had time."_

"It was your plan for us to run away."

"_Well, if we hadn't, my dad might have… God!_ _I still can't believe what he did." Her voice is laced with sadness and disappointed. Even without looking at her, Gabriel knows it is there._

_"Claire," he says with a firm voice, though it was laced with concern. "There is only one thing I know for sure, and that is that he loves you."_

_"No, I'm just the job," she replies bitterly. "He loves the job."_

Isaac comes back to reality, sweating. He is staring at the painting in disbelief; unable to recall painting this picture. It is almost night, and he just remembers painting in the afternoon.

"Why can't you stop?"

He turned around to see Simone standing behind him. She has a similar expression that is full of pain and disappointment, just like the blond girl. _Claire,_ his mind whispers, though he doesn't know where that name comes from.

"I need them," he replied, desperation coloring his voice. _It is the only way, _he reminds himself. _It is the only way I'll ever figure out how to save the world. _

"Look at you," she sighs, biting her lip as she gestures with her hand. "You're sweating, you barely can stand and you're so addict to the stuff you barely eat anymore. They are killing you, Isaac." The tears want to fall, because damn it all, she loves him, but she holds them back as she crosses her arms and shakes her head.

"I need to see the future," he almost yells, but does not, but his voice is full of determination.

"Why? Because you saw the city blow up? How do you know it is the future and not some random illusion? And even if you could see the future, what could you really do to stop the city from exploding?" She tries to reason with him, as she has tried several times before.

"I don't know, but I have to do something." His voice is quiet, and he is now staring back at the painting.

She follows his gaze to his latest drawing, "What do _they_ have to do with it?"

"I don't know..."

"Nothing, you're just painting random scenes that aren't even connected," she sighs. "You know what, I just came to collect some of your paintings."

"Take those over there," He waves over to a pile of paintings behind him.

* * *

_Tokyo, Japan_

Hiro sometimes thinks that if he stares at the clock long enough he'll make time move faster. He hates working at the office, and would rather be out on an adventure. His father has never liked that idea, but if his mother was here, she would tell him to go. He should go. He should just take off and... He closes his eyes. For a brief moment, when he opens them, the place is completely frozen. Confused, he blinks again, and finds that clock has moved faster.

"_Yatta__!_" he yells, running over to his friend's desk. Ando is not satisfied by his friend's behavior at all. Some people probably wonder how they are even friends in the first place. Hiro so optimistic and innocent and Ando…is not so innocent and only optimistic when it comes to certain females.

"We should be working. Your father will not be happy." Ando has managed to keep his meetings with Hiro's father minimum and he sees no downside to that.

"I just broke the time continuum!" Hiro exclaimed, completely excited. It does not make sense to his friend that Hiro believes that and briefly wonders why, but then he thinks maybe he should just ignore everything pertaining to it.

"No one can do that."

"I can," Hiro piped cheerful.

"Ah, I'm wrong Mr. Spock can." Sarcasm is a friend of Ando's. "That was a movie; I can do it for real."

"What makes you think that?"

"I just told you I sped up time. Didn't you see the clock go faster?"

"No?"

"It did, maybe I'll try again." Hiro squeezed his eyes shut as tight as he could and open them, but this time a strange thing happen. He was no longer in the office; he was in a city he had never been to before.

**New York**

**

* * *

**Gabriel is taking a forced break of the many tests that Dr. Suresh has run, while staring at the fried chicken in front of him. His mother would never let him eat such a thing. _Special _children should only eat home made food and nothing less. She always made his lunches, and she never took him to a fast food restaurant. He only has eaten fast food, once or twice in his life. Once when a teacher wanted to praise for a good job, she brought him some chicken nuggets and fries, he had not known such a taste before. He never told his mother about the incident afraid, she might think he did not like her food.

So now he just gazed at the piece of chicken, debating if he should eat it or not. "It's not going to bite you," Eden stated. "Are you a vegetarian, I guess I should have asked. I could go order something else."

"No, I just don't usually eat fast food. It will do." Eden can't believe this guy. She has never met someone so damn polite. It is kind of annoying and sad, because there is reason for him being that damn polite. The kind of life she has lived, the things she has done, she knows. You either are angry at everything and take it out on everything or your angry at yourself and take it out on yourself or worse of all both. She has been there, done some destructive things, and it forced her to work with the company. She sips her cup of coffee and thinks that may or not be the worse choice she would ever made, yet. "It wouldn't bother me to get something a little fresher. If you find it more appetizing, you really should eat well, some of these tests will take a toll on your mind."

"I'm not concerned about that, as long as they prove I am special." So this guy is probably both, because of the desperation that seeps through his voice. "You know being special is all in the manner in how you view it." "I view being special as doing something extraordinary."

"What is extraordinary?"

"Being president, having an ability, something along those lines are considered extraordinary."

"I see. So you want to do something that makes you different from most people."

"Not just different. _Special_."

* * *

Noah has not had a day like this in so long and with everything that is about to go down in the company, he needs it. He looks over to his children who are enjoying a peaceful dinner with him. His Claire-bear, who he loves with all his heart, is sitting next to her mother. It is hard to believe she is adopted; she looks so much like Sandra. "Alright, we will have dessert and then presents," Sandra says. "I baked your favorite, Noah." She brings out the cake from the fridge, homemade chocolate cake with white frosting. On top is Happy Birthday in black, his favorite color, and his name. "Alright, everyone."

"Do we have to, Mom?" Lyle asked. "Listen, I don't care if your father is 80 and doesn't even know who we are anymore, and you are forty something, we _will_ sing happy birthday."

"Alright, alright," Lyle reluctantly agreed. Then they all sang together, horribly out of tune, but it was still a great happy birthday song. "Okay, let's eat cake and then," he rubbed his hands together, eagerly, "presents." They smile, laugh, and nibble at the cake. He saw Claire practically inhaling her slice, and he smiles. She must have gotten him something really good. After Sandra puts up all the plates, Lyle and Claire retreat grabbing their respectful presents. He opens them up, and finds that Sandra bought him a new briefcase. "Your other one was getting worn out."

"Yeah, I have had that thing for a few years." He gazes at the new case, remembering when exactly he bought the old one. Around the time they had brought it, a small baby girl found her way into his arms. And his heart. "Here is mine." Lyle handed over a small mp3 device. "So we all won't have to suffer anymore when you listen to your lame music." He leans over and rubs Lyle's head. "You'll listen to what I say you listen to," he teases. "Now mine!" Claire practically jumps out of her seat, and Sandra is smiling. "This must be really good; you two can hardly contain yourselves."

Lyle crosses his arms. "There is no way it can be more awesome then mp3 player," he states as Noah opens the box and freezes. _Gray's Watch Shop_ is on the box, the same name of the shop that he was supposed to be observing. The one that Gabriel Gray works in. _How did this happen? _His two worlds could not possibly be colliding. _Not now. _Claire looks down with a frown. "Is something wrong?"

"No, I just..." he fumbles with the box and he hears metal hit the floor. He is frozen. This had to cost... He picks up the watch. He thought he'd lost it and here it is, in perfect condition. "Claire-bear, how much money did you spend? You should return this." She sounds a little hurt. "But Dad! It's your watch and I just had it fixed, besides Mom helped with the cost."

"But Claire this had to at least cost a couple hundred dollars to fix."

"I'm not going to return it, Dad. I don't need the money, and don't even know if I can. I got it for you. What, don't you like it?"

"Claire-bear, I love it," he says, quickly hugging her. "But a girl your age shouldn't be trying to scrounge up money for such expensive gifts."

"Lyle, maybe you should return your gift too."

"Naw, I got it on sale Dad, besides I don't keep receipts."

"I have two wonderful kids." He grabs Lyle—who squirms—to join in the hug with him and Claire. Sandra smiles widely as she too joins. If I can only protect them, he thinks.

* * *

Peter is dragged into Isaac's loft by Simone. The guy that she is in some kind of relationship with, the guy who, from what Peter hears, does not deserve some one like her. She needed Peter's help with some of her father's stuff, but she had to stop by here first. When they step into apartment Isaac is lying on the floor. Simone is starting to panic, she covered her mouth with her hands and is in tears. "I told him he needed to stop."

He quickly goes over to Isaac. "Isaac, are you okay?" No response, Peter had not been expecting one either, but he is just following his C.P.R. training, so he leans in his head closer to check and see if he is breathing. Then he checks Isaac's pulse. "He is alive."

"Thank God," Simone replied in relief, her hands shaking.

"I'm calling 911," he told her as he pulled out his cell phone. "It will be alright, Simone."

"What is your address, sir?" the operator asks. "What's the address here, Simone?" He looks over to her and while she seems to be still shaking, she is starting to calm down and gives him the address. "Alright, paramedics will be there soon." Peter hangs up the phone. All they can do now is wait. He looks over to the paintings. He sees one in particular of him flying. _Why would he have painted this? _He moves closer, and Simone's dark eyes follow his. Just before the ambulance arrives, they both see the picture of the explosion.

* * *

Claire had her mom drop her off as usual. "Okay, don't forget, two hours." She stared at her mom and gave her a quick kiss before getting out the car. Lately, her mom was forgetting little things more and more. She did not know why.

"I'm not that old Claire," her mother grinned as she waved goodbye.

"No, of course not." She made her way into the watch shop causing the bell to ding. She was not sure why, but the dread that had been there had faded away into not quite excitement, but she kind of looked forward to it.

"Hey Gabriel," she greeted with a wave.

Gabriel struggled to get a hold of the glasses he was trying to clean. "Uh, hello." He was completely surprised to see Claire. It only had been a few days before, when he gave her Father's watch. What reason did she really have to stay? She had what she wanted, so why had she come back? He assumed she was just like everybody else, who left when they did not get what they wanted, just like Dr. Suresh was about to do. "What's wrong, Gabriel?" Claire is concerned—she was starting to become fond of Gabriel Gray. There was something about him...she wasn't sure what. She couldn't say it was his voice, because as nice as it was, it was not what she thought was special about him. It was not his intelligence either—he managed to hide from most people. No...it was just something she could not name just yet.

"I didn't expect you to come back." He covered his brown eyes with his glasses once more, and pushed them back on the bridge of his nose.

"I said I would, didn't I?" She grinned at him and he finds himself smiling at her, and that makes hers widen. "Yes, you did." _Perhaps, tomorrow Gabriel would think about what her coming back means. Will it increase his fears? Or maybe Claire Bennet is the saving grace he has been looking for? And Claire why does she keep coming back, because it is the right thing to do? Or perhaps something like destiny has forced her to. But whatever the futures holds, for this brief moment two people have found a tiny sense of contentment. _

* * *

Peter could not get Isaac's paintings out of his mind. How could Isaac paint the same thing he saw in his dream? It was just too similar to his dreams to be a coincidence. He believes it, and more so he believes in himself, he really believes he could fly. Maybe that's why he's on top of a tall building, Nathan down below, actually afraid—for his career or his brother—nobody knows. Peter doesn't care, because he is letting go. He just lets go...

And steps off the roof.

**

* * *

****Author's Commentary: ****YAY SEASON 4!** There has not been any new Sylaire interaction, so a tad disappointed about that but you know so far I like it. I like Peter's new love interest. I love the twist with Sylar's recovery, from what I read of the fics nobody thought of that one, pretty cool he is stuck in Matt's head, and his body got awaken by bullets...that's a wake up call. So I'm wondering if Sylar is kind of split now? Cause Sylar is stuck in Matt's head, Nathan is in Sylar's body with who? Hmm...because the lady who has the tattoo power said there were two people inside Sylar's body, is it Sylar still? Confusing, but interesting.

So the whole Eden scene was done, instead of being repetitive with doctor Suresh, but I'm sure you get the picture, the scenes with Dr. Suresh is supposed to aid in his frustration. I'm afraid at this point, I don't think I will be bringing Niki, Micah, or I don't know about Mohinder, I do want to bring him, but really not sure if I can. I will probably bring Matt in, and maybe Molly, not sure yet.

So why did I take so long? One: Lost Internet, because I moved and I haven't be able to afford it, yet. I'm borrowing my brother, who is kind strict about how long I can use it. Two: having problems as usual, putting it together. Three: Well, I was holding it hostage, until I got the other two chapters written, but as I see that I was relatively happy with the results I decided to let it go, and post it for you.

So, I started watching the first season again, and what I found is I'm not completely far off, what I written follows along with the first episode, except Claire who is way behind at this time, and Aurthur Petrelli he is supposed to be 'supposedly' dead, you know I knew that and I still wrote him in. The funny thing is I have no idea why, just came out that way. You know what kind of sucks is that we are into the fourth chapter and we're still at the beginning, I just want to get to the good stuff, which I think I am, but every time I think yes I can bring Elle in and get to the real plot, I think nope this has to happen first. Though another chapter or two, maybe three, Gabriel and Claire are going to discover there abilities.

**To the Readers: ****I hope you continue to enjoy this and those who review me, I truly appreciate it. Your encouragement keeps me going me. **

**For My Editors: You are awesome, because of both you, not only is this story better, but everything else I write is, so I thank you very much. **


	5. Pieces

Be My Escape 

_**Author: Estelle Stafford**_

_**Author's Note: Sorry, this is kind of rushed chapter as far as editing goes, but Happy NEW YEAR**_

_**Beta: **_

_**Chapter Five:**_ Pieces

* * *

The news filter through the Linderman Mansion: "There are confirmed reports that Peter Petrilli has just tried to commit suicide."

Angela's glass of tea fell to the floor. Her composure broke for only second, and Mr. Linderman pretend to have not caught the moment, but he had. After the reporter added, "He seems to have miraculously survived thanks to his brother Nathan Petrelli. Nathan Petrelli is running for Senate and..." Her demeanor was back to normal and she looks over to her host, both act as though this was not significant in anyway, "Daniel, I believe one of my sons is developing an awareness for his power."

"I take it you will be leaving, which is a shame... because I was cooking a lovely roast." He says slightly disappointed and with hint of knowing something that is to come.

"Yes, I'm afraid I won't get to eat another one your delicious meals, today Daniel." She stands up gracefully and smiles politely, "Forgive me for the interruption. I do hope to continue our discussion another time." The maid lets her out and Daniel watches her disappear.

Then he walks over to a plant, gently touching it, springing the plant back to its fullness, "I see the pieces are already starting to be put in to play. I do wonder however if Peter Petrelli is a mere chess piece or a player." Daniel swirled the glass in his wine, it was quite ironic the insight he had held when his ability did not help in that matter. It was something he had learn to develop over the years, and with such wisdom came the fear of certain things, he did not believe the pieces Angela played would go exactly the way she planned. Some of her emotions she managed to keep in check just might come in play after all this time. He would just wait to see how the game finally ended, playing his part when had to. He drank the last of his wine, _slowly..._ letting the smooth essence travel down his throat. He glances at the clock, "Speaking of chess, I believe Mrs. Smith will be coming over today, perhaps my roast will not go to a complete waste."

* * *

Jackie laughed at Claire as they headed from their class, "Oh my gosh, I can't believe you have to work with that Freakazoid." Claire glared at her as she made her way down the hall.

Melody joined in, "I...sucks to be you Claire." Claire rolled her eyes. 'Surprise, surprise_'_, Melody was about helpful as an ice cream was to a diet. You had the excuse it was diary but really it was not helpful, with Melody you had the excuse she was sympathetic but in reality she was _so_....not helping.

"It is not **that** big of a deal. It isn't my fault the teacher assigned Zach and me to work together. It isn't like it is going to kill me. He'll come over this weekend and..." Jackie had a look of being petrified as she frozen in step, along with Melody. It took Claire a second to notice both the girls were not with her, but when she glanced over, they were staring at her like she was a ghost. "What?" Claire stopped. Searching around her to see if something was going on, she concluded nothing obvious was wrong and held her hands up, "What is it?"

"You can't be serious?" Melody came over to where Claire was, "You can't let that _**freak**_ in your house."

"That is why you guys are acting like something is about to blow up. .**got** to be kidding me!"

"No, Claire, as your friend I'm telling you letting Zach in your house is social suicide," Melody actually sounded sincerely concerned. Yeah, definitely like ice cream.

"And maybe you don't care." Jackie stepped up to the other side of her, with her arms crossed, "but none of my friends let people like him in their house, if you do then we are no longer friends."

"This is ridiculous. It is a project for English Class, okay I'm not inviting him over for dinner or anything." Claire explained.

"Shhh..." Melody searched around her, "You never say a boy's name and dinner in the same sentence, unless you want people to think you are dating. It is like a rule or something."

Claire began to walk to her locker, "Whatever. You didn't want me to work either, but you got over it. You'll get over this."

"Oh, I'm still not over _**that**_," Jackie flipped her ponytail, putting her face in Claire's; she gave her the evil queen of popularity, eyes.

Claire took in a deep breath, the words were on her tongue as she was walking towards her locker, but --she is not sure who is lucky but somebody is--Brody is there--most likely her as he is grinning boyishly. Though, for some odd reason Claire does not have the same giddiness she had before when he usually came around.

"Hey," He greets and Melody's eyes widen with glee. She quickly latches on to Jackie's arm.

"Uh, Jackie, shouldn't we go?" Melody asked trying to give her friend Claire a moment.

Jackie gave a very feminine snarl snatched her arm out of the perky blonde's grip. "How many times do I have to tell you not grab me?" The evil head Capitan snapped at her follower, who shriveled under her gaze. "Hey Brody," She grinned as she swayed her hips a bit.

"Uh hi, Jackie," He replies while keeping his eyes on Claire. She stomps on his foot. Melody is just watching, not sure if she should go or not, now.

"I'm over here!" Jackie declares catching Brody's attention.

The boy runs a hand through his hair, "I know. I just came over to see if Claire needed help with her books." Claire closes her locker, and briefly catches Lori disappearing down the hall.

She then looks over to her side to see Jackie seemingly piss, and cannot help but seize the opportunity. She puts on her brightest smiles and then hands over her books, "Sure, my class is just down this way." She leaves Jackie seething as she sashays down the hall.

* * *

In his moment of complete awe, Hiro fell to notice he was in the middle of the street... in _New York_... during _rush hour_. Of course, the drivers of New York had no problem of making him realize it. A horn blared and a loud, "Watch were you are going moron," was shouted by some random drivers who had almost killed him. Hiro quickly dashed across the street which coincidental was right in front of a comic book store that had several array of beautifully drawn books on display, but one particular one caught his eye. This was because on the front of the cover was an image that was familiar:

Himself

"Ah," He exclaimed staring at the cover of 9th wonders, "that is me!" he shouted loudly, "That is me," he pointed at it trying to get anyone's attention, but a few people just stared at him with disbelief, while the rest continued with their everyday lives.

This however did not quell his excitement as he went inside to get his hands on a copy. His amazement increased when he saw what was inside the book, the images were mirror of what had just only happened moments ago.

"Hey, that's our best seller." Alex pointed out, coming up behind him, "How do you like it so far." Hiro told him it was good, but the entire retailer heard was a whole bunch of unrecognizable sounds, "I'm sorry," he held his hands up, and "I don't speak Japanese." Hiro frowned a bit, but then pointed to himself in a picture. "That's..." Alex was a bit surprised as the realization dawned on him, "You, isn't it?"

"Yes, Yes," He replied which came out to Alex like, "Hi, Hi,"

"Hmm, that is kind of weird." Alex stated, not sure what else to say. He could not speak Japanese, though he was curious if perhaps this guy knew the artist, but he had to get back to work because a customer called him, so he escaped.

Hiro looked slightly disappointed; he wanted to see if the guy knew anything about this comic book. He went to staring at the pictures, there were some that were him of Ando and Hiro, but they had not happened yet. He was curious as to why there were images of him that seemed to reflect earlier events but others had not happened. Suddenly it hit him, "Future," He then desperately searched through the pages to find the artist's address, "Isaac Med—enz."

* * *

_If that bastard asks me to get his coffee one more time, _Matt hears as a woman in a well-pressed suit walked by with several cups of coffee, she did not look too happy as she had a frown on her face; the strange thing was her lips did not move.

Another woman passed by, _Okay get the groceries, pick up the kids, and then come home cooked dinner, yeah that is all I need to do today. _

Several other people passed by some of them grumble, some were on the phone, but there were words heard that were not spoken.

_He does it get it. I just...._

_She is such a brat..._

_I can't stand it anymore..._

Different people passed by and Matt could hear various things that were said, but he was not paying attention to the fact that their lips did not always move. Matt was trying to ignore what he thought were mumbles and concentrate on his own worries. He needed to pass that test, and things with his wife had been a bit difficult lately. "Communication," he mumbles, "the therapist says we need to communicate better, it would help if Janice would at least talk to me."

* * *

Angela calmed herself before entering the hospital room, _Peter's fine, he won't die, and you know that, he just came into his powers. Peter has too much hope for this world. _She straighten her suit jacket as she made her way into the room and was shock to find Nathan's wife holding Peter's hand, "You didn't do it, I know you didn't," she could hear the hoarseness in Heidi's voice.

"Heidi," She called in an authority, but gentle, voice, "I'm surprise to see you here without Nathan,"

"Oh, Angela, yes well he went out to get some work done, but I'm sure he'll be back, soon." She replied stroking Peter's hand, "I just think someone should be here if...when he wakes up."

"He will wake up my dear, and I'm sure Nathan will return soon as possible as well. You should go home and get some rest."

"No, I'm fine, how are you holding up?"

Angela smiled politely, but she was not aware how fake it was, "I'm fine, dear."

"You are not," she pointed out looking at her, "Nathan is burying himself in work, just like he did when I was...and you just now came here. What were you doing that was so important?"

Angela would never tell anyone she drove out of the city to a secluded place where nobody could see her cry. She was worried, truly worried. If her plans for Gabriel Gray did not work out...Peter would... This is why she shut herself off to him, this why she treated him so cruelly, because her heart was not prepared for what might happen to him. Her dreams were never clear, but she saw both Gabriel Gray and her son involved in the explosion, and it had to be Mr. Gray, it had to be him. She reached out for Heidi's hand, "I had a pressing matter to attend to,"

"More pressing than your son,"

_No, of course not_, "Yes," Heidi sighed and did not say another word.

"I'm afraid while you are intelligent...I have yet to find anything indicating you have any special abilities." Dr. Suresh explained in his matter fact tone. "We have a couple more tests to run but...I believe you may just a normal young man."

Gabriel was frozen. Normal. He would be as he had ever been, a normal man working in a mundane job with a boring routine that repeated over and over in a perfect cycle. He was nobody again, just as he always ever was, no he could not be. He could not be that again. No, this could not be right, "But I was on your list!"

"This is all new to me Mr. Gray, I am afraid I will find many people who will turn out to be normal. My formula may not be quite perfect." Gabriel could feel his world shattering underneath him, the hope... that wonderful moment of hope was being stolen from him in only in a matter of seconds.

"Don't worry," Eden spoke, sensing the look of utter defeat in Gabriel, the desperation was probably crawling inside him, "There are still a couple more tests that you have to perform isn't there?" She gazes at Dr. Suresh who nods.

"Yes, perhaps I'm making my initial analysis too soon." He could not see how foolish his actions might have been as he gave Mr. Gray another ounce of hope, "I will meet with you tomorrow."

"I'm sorry, I..." Gabriel began, "I have work to do." Eden watched him as he began to disappear, she sighed, and the guy is blaming himself obviously when anyone else probably would have been just as frustrated and blame the world. She went after him.

* * *

Mohinder steps out of the taxi cab and looks at the piece of paper in his hand. It is the address where his father was supposed to be living at. He raises his head in time to watch a young woman with curly black hair walk pass him after a man in a distance.

* * *

Claire could not help the victorious grin that reached her face after Brody left. She was killing two birds with one stone; she was getting attention from the guy she liked and pissing off Jackie. Yeah, it was dangerous, considering Jackie could kill her social status with one tiny rumor, but she could not help but enjoy it. It was strange she was more excited about pissing off Jackie then finally catching Brody's attention after having a crush on him since the beginning of school. She supposed it had to do with Gabriel, not that she was attracted to him_...well maybe except when he took his glasses off, and when he talks, she likes his voice, but he is way older...Where is her mind going to anyway?_

She shook her head as the bell shrilled.

"Alright everyone it is time for roll call," Mrs. Smith Announced in her no nonsense tone. "Jake Andrews,"

"Here,"

"Rick Anderson,"

"Here,"

"Claire Bennet,"

"Here," She replied. Miss. Smith continued to call the names when she was done she looked up from her roll call sheet.

"Okay, now I have your tests from last week." She walked over to her desk and grabbed a stack of papers, a collective sound of groans and "I know I bombed," were heard around the room. As she laid them face down on each desk, there were sighs of relief and exclamations of 'I'm so dead' heard.

When she sat Claire's down, she did not give no indication of how she did, just like with the other students but Claire had a sense of dread, none the less. She slowly lifted up the white sheet and the thought _I'm so dead _ran through her head. She stare at the 69%, if she got another low score like this she was off the squad as her average would drop significantly, but of course that was not as bad as when her parents so the score. She saw in tiny ink _see me after class. _That was never good, never EVER. She sat through the rest of class in dread. Though, she had to appreciate Ms. Smith's sullenness, at least she could possibly avoid public humiliation. She quickly stuffed the test in her folder to hide it, she have hell to pay if anyone found out and relayed the message to Jackie.

The time passed with dread. Claire could not really concentrate on what Ms. Smith was saying. First her brain would like _variable X is, _but then her mind would shift focus. _I hope I am not grounded for long, the bonfire is coming up. Concentrate, concentrate, Claire um...22, damn I was not even close. Wait a minute what she is talking about now? I can't believe I already worked one month worth of Saturday's at Gabriel's shop, and I'm just finally starting to make progress with him, too. Not that it is such a big deal, why do I care if I know him or not? He is kind of geek, well...in a Clark Kent way and that is kind of cute. Remember Claire he is way older than you. At least I think he is, well...he does not look that much older, really. Oh what was Ms. Smith saying about multiplying negatives? If I admit superman is handsome, does that not mean that Gabriel is hott? _

Her mind drifted back in forth until class ended and She slowly approached Mrs. Smith's desk after everyone disappeared, along with some girl who was eagerly questioning the teacher about joining the math team. "Hey, you said you wanted to see me,"

"Yes," her teacher put her hands in front of her and looked seriously at Claire, "I know how much cheerleading means to you, and I know you are trying hard. I can tell by your homework."

"Yeah, I'm just really bad at math and science." She admitted twirling her hair in a nervous gesture and moving her feet a bit.

"Well then...I have a proposition for you and I believe it will ease the news to your parents as well."

"Okay, first of all I want you to get a tutor..." Claire's mind ran in panic, if she got a tutor at school Jackie would _so_ make sure everyone knew. Argh…that would totally suck. "Now of course you can get one through the school, but I think you would benefit from somebody who has more knowledge in math beyond high school. I also have a list of services of course, if none of these options seem good to you, you present me with another, but you will need to meet with a tutor two to four hours each week and I will give you an extra point provided the tutor says you are actually trying." Claire nodded in agreement, "That will help with your grade, and I'm also thinking of an extra opportunity for all of the class."

"What's that?"

"I'll still working on the details, but it will have to do with applying math to the real world."

"Okay, so when do I have to get a tutor?"

"I'll give you a week before you come up with something." Claire left the class with a little more ease, Mrs. Smith was extremely nice, as well as fair, but still that…left Claire the dilemma of finding a tutor that would not destroy her social life, or kill her allowance, because if she had to hire someone her parents would probably make her pay for it.

Madeline watched as Claire left, she hoped she predicted the cheerleader's next move correctly, if not she have to come up with another play in this game.

* * *

"Gabriel," Eden latched onto his arm, "Hey, it is..."

He turned around glaring at her, she withdrew her hand, "I told you not to call me by first name."

"You know…I bought you dinner the other day, which at least should earn me the right to call you by your first name." She is teasing him a little bit, trying to loosen him. Feeling sorry for this guy comes more naturally then it should.

He sighs, pulling off his glasses and cleaning them. Clearly, a sign of frustration, or annoyance, "I'm sorry to be rude, but we are still not friends."

"Why not?" She asks, "we have been spending..." Eden stopped herself, "Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you were okay, you seemed a little upset and from what we talked about the other day I know you're not exactly happy about the news," She gently put a hand on his shoulder, he shrunk from it. "I'm sorry, I just...myself...I know kind of what it feels like when you just want something to change anything, but you should know changes are not always good." She said this as she caught the sight of the van in the distance. _So Gabriel has ability after all, if they are here, he may wish later he was normal. God, I hope they are not going to expect me to get involved more than I am. I don't how I possibly go any deeper without causing any harm. _

"Mrs. McCain it is not a simple change I wish for my life to be completely altered," He replied.

"Yeah, I get that but I'm telling you this could be one of those be careful for what you wish for things, Gabriel."

"Maybe," he agrees, but then he adds, "at this point it seems more painful to not wish." It really was, for him. It seemed hopes, and wishes was all he had these days, wishing he was special, hoping that the young Claire Bennet will become his friend and stay.

* * *

Peter stirs awake, disoriented, he remembers jumping off a rather tall building and find out that his dreams were completely wrong. He could not fly. Of course, he could not fly why he believed in such a thing— the dreams seemed so real — Nathan told him he could not fly. He jumped. He had to prove his brother wrong, he wanted to be special for once, but he was not. He was just normal, plain, Peter, as always.

Where is he? Looking around he sees a rather tired Heidi looking at him with a warm grin, "Welcome back."

"How long was I out?"

"A few days,"

"Where's Nathan?"

"He went to get me something decent to eat," she replies, "He has been here pretty much all night, in between doing things at the office."

That sounded about right, "Oh, how long have you been here?"

"A few hours, your mother just left a little while ago."

"How…" he is not sure if it wants to know, because if she is upset will feel guilty and if she is not, he will feel hurt.

"Fine," Heidi ran her hands over her skirt, flatting invisible wrinkles in it.

"And you?" he asked.

"Peter," her voice is soft, "Why are you worrying about everyone else? You're the one who fell off the building."

"I did?" He was a bit taken back and his eyes blinked several times, "I don't think that is what happened I think I--" He scrunched up his face in confusion, he could not remember.

"You tried to commit suicide," Nathan filled in while handing his wife some Chinese food. "Here you go dear," he kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"Thank you," she replied with a tired grin, she peeked inside, "Hmm...Peter would you like some?"

"Heidi I bought that for you," Nathan stated, "You need to keep your strength up, the hospital will bring something for Peter."

"I don't see why I can't share?"

"The doctors might not want Peter eating that stuff,"

"Hey aren't we getting off the subject, what do you mean I tried to kill myself?" Peter asked not wanting to see Heidi and Nathan fight. It seemed like there were some kind tension which always seemed to be there when ever Nathan strays. No...Peter did not want to think about that, he did not want to think that his big brother whom everyone looked up to was capable of cheating on his wonderful wife, but Nathan had more than once…no…he would not worry about that now.

"You did, you jumped off a skyscraper." His older brother tried to sound concern, but he doubted his worries had little to do with his brother's life, and more to do with his career.

"I feel like I'm missing something, how could I possibly survived a fall like that with no broken bones?"

"It is a miracle Peter," That tone of voice does not sound like someone who believes it was a miracle at all. He wonders what is really going on.

"Why would I try to kill myself?" Peter may dislike certain things in his life, but he never ever wanted to kill himself before...well maybe once, but that was a long time ago.

"He wouldn't," Heidi piped up, "He must have just overstepped." It was not possible in her mind and she was surprised that Nathan was so accepting of the idea. Peter was the kind of man who helped people all the time; he would not do something so...well he would not be able to help anyone that way.

Nathan looked completely disbelieving, before his expression changed and he just sigh, "I don't think so..." He ran a hand through his hair, "What were you doing up there Pete?"

"I was helping Simone with something." He recalled a conversation about some kind of medicine he had access to.

"No, what were you doing on the roof?"

"I was trying to...,"

Heidi gasped, "Fly, you were trying to fly." And Nathan looks at them like they're both crazy, even though Nathan knows, and Peter knows that he did....

Fly.

* * *

Claire shows her parents her grade, but speedily throws in the explanation of obtaining extra credit, "So all I need is to get someone to tutor me and I'll be just fine." She emphasizes this with her hands, then awaits her fate as her mother holds onto the paper with her father looking over her shoulder, adjusting his glasses to see better.

"Okay," Sandra says, "Well...this grade is bad, Claire," She frowned.

"But," Noah interjected, "Seems you got this figured out,"

Relief overcame her mixed with confusion, "That's it," She holds herself back, waiting for a 'but' of some sort or some twist.

Her father looks at his wife, "That's it, right?"

"Well, who are you going to get to tutor you?" Sandra asked.

Claire twirled her hair, "Ms. Smith said I could get somebody from school but..."

"Then everyone would know," Noah answered.

"I really don't want to hire somebody, either,"

Sandra held a teasing grin, "Because you know your father make you pay for it out of your allowance."

"Now, come on," Noah pretended to be offended, "I'm not the mean parent here,"

Claire laughed, "Only mostly,"

"Now, Clairebear, you hurt my feelings," he retorted.

"Come on, you know my favorite dad in the whole world," She replied.

"Yeah," he agreed and then is voice while loving was firm, "but your mother's right I'm not going to pay out of pocket for a tutor, you either get one from school or pay your own."

Claire shrugged her shoulders, "Could be worse, I got time to figure it out, so what's for supper?"

* * *

Black meets white on the board and it is checkmate. A pair of brown eyes looked up the board causing a pair of pale pink lips to form a smile, "It seems I have lost, again oh what a pity." Mr. Linderman looks at her with a reminiscent smile.

"I'm afraid so, Madeline." He smiled, "Do you wish to play another round with me?"

"No, not today, soon, though." She says as she picks her purse. "I have another chess match to attend to."

"I see, I must confess I have yet to understand why you insist on these matches were you clearly out-matched," Daniel points out.

"It would seems so," She stands up, "but that does little to take away from the thrill of the game." She leaves, when she is outside of the door, she is smirking, "Besides, I'm just building up for the big match, which I'm afraid my old friend...you have already lost." What she had left to lose she was ready to throw down, because she already lost the most precious thing to her once, and now she was going to do whatever it took to save him.

* * *

Author's Commentary:

This chapter is short, but I think six is longer, so it balances out. Anyhow, I know I kind of suck on the updating thing. I apologize for errors, turns out I did not send a copy to my editors like I thought, so soon there should be an edit version. Yeah I'm sorry that there wasn't much Claire and Gabriel action, I hoping to make it up, as the story goes on, I am hoping on chapters that are just almost all Gabriel and Claire, when I hit the second arc of the story. Yes, this story is going to be kind of long, if you haven't guessed yet.

Deleted Scene: Did not work because I tweaked it where Noah was included in the scene.

"How's that going anyway?" Sandra asked making her way to the kitchen to start dinner. Claire just stood back and watched as her mother pulled out various bowls, utensils, and ingredients.

"Actually, not bad, I'm making slow progress though the watch thing is a lot more interesting then I thought it be."

"Oh?" Sandra questioned pulling out the chicken on the cutting board to chop.

"Yeah, I know some of the parts, like where the spring is and the uh movement." She stated, "And Gabriel mentioned something that most old watches are off time a few seconds, especially if that don't get wind ever so often. Oh and the guy knows right away if something is off about your watch. It is kind of cool to watch."

"Really?" Sandra seemed inst rested, "Like he just looks at it?"

"Well I think he can," Claire pulled up a seat near the island, "But he usually just listens for it. It is really cool too, he can tell if it is running too fast and by how much too. I have seen him do it all the time, because I'm cashier." Sandra raised a brow.

"He trusts you with money."

"What is that so hard to believe, I can be responsible with money. I had little bit saved after all for dad's gift."

Sandra came over and gave Claire a hug from the side, "Oh I'm just teasing, so..." She let go of her daughter and went back to seasoning the chicken, "You have only a few more Saturday's to go,"

"Yep," Claire smacked her lips as she said it. "Too bad, he can't hire someone; it would not be bad for a part time job." She sighs, why she is starting to feel a little sad at the idea of not seeing Gabriel anymore.


	6. The Things That are Important

Disclaimer: It belongs to Tim Kring and the bosses at NBC

Be My Escape

By Estelle Stafford

Beta: Eris Dea Disaccordo

Words: 6000 +

**Post Date: **1/18/2010

**Author's Note**: Hiro is a few weeks in the future and the rest of the story is in the present. Hey, thanks to the reviewer who pointed the thing about my tenses, I'll try to fix it in future chapters. The Jackie and Claire confrontation scene might have some errors, because I rewrote it at the last minute. **Oh and don't blink, you don't want to miss the last couple of sentences**.

**Chapter Six:** The Things that are Important

* * *

Mohinder knocked on the door of the apartment, simultaneously avoiding the various cockroaches that roamed on the walls and floor. "This place is a disaster!" he said to himself as the door opened.

"Mohinder," his father stared at him with surprise, though it only lasted a second before returning his gaze to the paper in his hand, whatever it was about. "What are you doing here?"

The younger Suresh made his way inside the apartment, surveying the space with much disapproval. "Father, how can you live in these conditions?"

Mohinder's voice made Chandra withdraw his focus from the paper, but his attention returned to it, quickly. "It is satisfactory for the work I'm doing." He made his way over to the table and picked up his tape recorder. "I have concluded that patient zero has no ability," he said into it, then stopped the record and put it back down.

Mohinder followed behind him and sighed out of frustration. "Father, I believe it is time for you to stop this foolishness."

"Foolishness!" Chandra scoffed. "I just need to perfect my formula." He made his way over to his laptop, opening it. "Though I admit, I'm not sure what to fix. Mohinder, do you know what it could be?"

"Father," his voice was soft but forceful, "please, come home,"

Chandra ignored him. "This should have been right…" He began desperately going over all the numbers. Mohinder made his way behind him to examine the formula. The scientist in him took over, briefly.

"You are right," Mohinder put himself in front of his father and then took an even closer look at the equation, he found himself going over the numbers in his head. "This should have been right, what is this?" He began scrolling down to search the various numbers that formed some sort of symbol.

"This is my formula for finding those with abilities, it has taken me years to perfect it, but the first of my patients has turned out to have no abilities."

Mohinder suddenly realized what he was doing, and forced himself not to think of the equation any longer. He straightened himself out. "That is because that is impossible, Father. It would take hundreds of years to evolve to such a stage."

"Perhaps," Chandra agreed, "but what if our survival depended on us evolving faster? Would not that somehow affect our evolutionary process? I believe this is so, humans are living longer and growing taller than they have in just a mere century or two."

"Father, you need to come with me now and stop this!" Mohinder demanded as he stood. "And I will not take no for an answer."

"Stubborn boy! Can you not see I am on the brink of something great here?!"

"If any of what you say is true, what could you possibly do? What way can you assist them?" Mohinder stared his father down. He will never understand why his father gave up their decent life in India and his job, and then put the family name in jeopardy just to waste away in this god-awful place on the basis of a hard-to-reach dream.

"Hey." Both men turned their heads to see a young woman with a bright smile, her hands in her back pockets. "Am I interrupting something?" She glanced between them, and noted there was a distinct resemblance between the young man and the older professor.

"No," Mohinder said calmly, glancing at his father. "I'll come back later." He made his way towards the door.

"Good. Will you be joining us for dinner?" she asked with a smile.

Mohinder blinked quickly, surprised. "I…" He gazed at her, trying to see what in the world would make her invite him to join them for dinner. _She was very pretty_, he noticed_. _He thought about it for a moment, but remembered he had someone waiting for him back home. "I don't think that would be a good idea," he told her before he turned to Chandra. "I will be staying at the Holiday Inn when you are ready to talk, Father."

Then he left.

Eden waited for him to disappear before she spoke, "So…" She laced her fingers together as she slowly made her way over to the professor, "that was Mohinder?"

The professor nodded. "Yes. He wants me to go home."

A sudden thought came to her as she made her way to the aquamarine that held a lizard, "Like this Mohinder." She picked the small reptile up to give him a quick kiss.

"I did name the lizard after him, yes, but I find the lizard is more agreeable at times."

"Well, I hope you don't go, but I think you should try to work out things with your son," Eden suggested. It seemed like the right thing to say. Though honestly, Eden didn't know, as she herself could not work things out with her mom, which is kind of why the woman was dead now. She shook her head, willing the thought away as she put the lizard down.

"I have tried, but he doesn't believe in my work," he replied, slightly frustrated. It was shocking to Eden, as Dr. Suresh didn't often show emotion, besides excitement for his research. She couldn't say the same regarding Mohinder—he seemed to be more expressive then his father.

"I see. Well, maybe you could try again later. So… What are you going to do about Gabriel?"

"I have one more test, but as I said before, I don't believe the results yielded will be in his favor or ours."

Eden hesitated. "Be careful when you give him the news, okay? He really wanted this."

Chandra nodded. "I know, but I cannot lie."

"I know, but maybe something will show up," she said hopefully. She knew whatever it was, it was going to show up eventually. She doesn't know if it would be better for Gabriel's powers to be revealed now or later, but she had a feeling if it was later…there was going to be an explosion of some kind.

"I doubt that."

* * *

_Don't hurt me. _

Matt halted his movement. He had been on his way home when he heard a little voice. He turned around, looking for where the sound had come from. There was nobody there, but…_that sounds like a child. _He gripped his gun in his hostler, and began to follow the voice.

He wasn't sure how he was going to find the owner of the voice, as it was inside his head, but he knew it wasn't his. It didn't make sense! Maybe he was going crazy, but something told him he was not.

_Please make the bad man go away! Please! _He wandered around, searching for the voice. It really did sound like a child's voice. _Please, someone!_ He found himself in front of a door, where the voice was getting louder. He rapped his knuckles on the wood.

"Hello? Is anyone home?" Nobody answers but he heard the voice again.

_Help me, _it said, and Matt got the impression that the child was crying. He tried the doorknob and found it unlocked, so he made his way inside, while he gripped at the gun on his belt.

"Are you alone?" He made his way across the front room with his guard up, and the voice got louder, stronger.

_I'm scared and alone. _

Dark eyes searched for any sign that something was wrong. He flicked on some lights and Matt took in the sight of the few scattered toys, a coat sprawled across the floor, and papers lying across the coffee table along with a couple cups. It seemed like a normal scene for what was probably a normal suburban home. If something was wrong, there were no obvious signs. The only indication there could be something amiss was the young voice he kept hearing.

He was started to rethink his earlier thought. Maybe he _was_ losing his mind. But then he heard the voice again.

_I'm so scared._

Following it, he found a secret door under the stairs. And when he pried it open, there was a small girl, her body shivering as she tightly gripped what appeared to be some type of stuff animal, but all he could see was white and green underneath the girl's arms. She had her arms wrapped around her legs, she brought them as close to her chest as possible, and her head was downward almost rested on her knees.

_Don't hurt me. _

"Hey, you're safe now." He put his gun in his hostler and then gently reached for her. Her eyes snapped open. At first she was frightened. "I'm a police officer," he said to soothe her as he holds his hand out for her. Surprisingly, her face expressed relief as she quickly throws herself at him.

"I've seen you," she declared, her voice reminiscent to the one in his head. But there was something ominous about her tone, something pulled at the back of Matt's mind. "You're a hero."

* * *

**[In The Future:]**

Hiro glanced down at the comic book again. It was the correct address, so he made his way up the stairs. When he finally found the apartment, the door is open and there are voices echoing inside.

"Isaac Mendez," he called in his Japanese accent, as he stepped across the threshold.

Suddenly, he found himself shoved up against a wall, held there by an unknown force. "Ah!" he exclaimed as the brown eyes of a killer gazed up at him.

"Hiro," he said. "Be a dear and stay there, won't you? I'll deal with you later." Hiro tried to move, but couldn't—the man was holding him there, even though he was several feet away.

"Sylar, someone is going to stop you!" The shout was heard from across the room and Hiro saw another man, also frozen in his spot. Hiro could only guess he was Issac Mendez, as there was evidence of paint on his hands and clothes. "You can still die."

Sylar crept closer, keeping his other hand pointed towards Hiro. "I don't care." He sneered, but there was a hint of sorrow underneath his anger. "You helped them take her away from me!"

"I didn't do anything! I tried to save her, too!" Isaac retorted, and then he added softly, "We all did."

Sylar shook his head as he yelled in a rage, as he made his way over to Isaac. "No, no, NO! You did no such thing. _You_," he brought Isaac closer to him, "helped them find me." He slammed Isaac back into the wall.

"I didn't have a choice!" Isaac yelled back. Hiro watched, waiting for an opportunity to escape and save the painter man. "But it doesn't matter anyhow. I don't care what you do now. I'm ready. Simone's dead and somebody will stop you."

"Nobody can stop me," he held his hand up. "Now that you have helped steal my future with her, I'll steal your ability to see it. Don't worry," he grinned sadistically, "This will only hurt a lot."

"You never had a future with her, Sylar. You are just a monster, going after a child like that."

"Shut up! It wasn't like that!" Sylar didn't know why even after all this time; he still felt the need to justify himself. He knows Claire would hate what he was doing, and sometimes that made him want to stop giving into the hunger. She would almost save him again, just as before, but then he would remember what happened to her, remember the sight of her lifeless body, and the rage would come back.

"She was only—Argh!" Sylar drew his finger slowly in a line that appeared in blood red on the artist's head.

"Enough talk." There is a slight satisfaction in revenge. The only time he seemed to be able to feel anything was when he took the life from someone, but it would only be a temporary sensation before the numbness washed over him again. A life without Claire could never have happiness.

All he has was revenge.

"You are a bad man!" Hiro shouted as he continued to struggle against the hold on him. Sylar pried his attention away from Isaac and strode over to the squirming Japanese man.

"Really, Hiro? All I'm doing is getting my well-deserved revenge. Though, I think she would have agreed with you." Hiro's eyes widened in surprise; this man could speak his language! Sylar saw the look and smiled wickedly, stating, "Oh yeah, just some ability I picked up along the way. Normally, I would kill you…"

"Revenge never gets a man what he wants and killing will never give you the meaning you seek."

"I know," Sylar agreed. "My only meaning in life is gone, so you know it shouldn't matter, but she really liked you." He lowered his hand and Hiro found himself on the floor, free. Hiro was confused. "Go, now…" Hiro does not understand. The man was bad, but he let him go. Sylar rolled his eyes, "You are boring me," He flicked his fingers and forced Hiro to back away.

That's when it hits.

Hiro watched in horror as a blazing fire came rolling towards him, and just before it engulfed them—and as Hiro closed his eyes to escape—he saw Sylar smile. "I told them it wasn't going to be me."

* * *

Claire tapped on the counter of the store. Only a handful of people had shown up and she was bored, as usual. She heard Gabriel working in the background and found herself making her way to where he was working. She knew she shouldn't go there, but she wanted to watch him work. It was actually neat to watch him, and it was better than doing nothing. She observed as he carefully placed a tiny metal gear inside the watch.

"You know…. I envy you." His shoulders tensed slightly as he turned his head and glared at her, but it has little effect. Honestly, how could she possibly take him seriously when he was still wearing that magnifying device over his right eye? She bursts out laughing. He pressed his lips tighter together, and still she could only see one brow, "I'm sorry, really! But if you're gonna glare at me, shouldn't you take that thing off?"

He removed it, still glaring, and she laughed again. "I don't appreciate you laughing at me, and I do not understand why you insist hovering over me and inquiring about ridiculous things?"

She tilted her head, grinning, and put a hand on her hip. The anger simmered to a low heat at the sight of that full blown smile, but still, she had been laughing at him.

_I bet a lot of people are laughing at me, _he thought to himself. His face faltered a bit, only showing a tinge of bitterness instead of annoyance.

"I'm sorry," she says, not sensing his negative mood, "but that thing is kind of funny looking, especially when you are trying to look mad at me."

"I need it to see the pieces, and I'm sure you were aware this. I don't believe this is the first time you have seen me with it on."

"No, but you look kind of cute when you are trying to be angry like that."

Gabriel is a bit flustered, a blush creeping across his face, and that makes him even more irritated. "I'm not a puppy or a kitten—I don't ever look cute. I must insist that you stop bothering me at once."

She sighed, placing her hands in her pockets as she says, "I'm sorry, but I'm so _bored_."

He rolled his eyes. "Claire, you're always bored."

"But not when I watch you work," she answered. "You are so good. I never thought I'd find watch-making so interesting!" It was strange to him that someone actually found his work interesting, even though he has been complimented on the pieces several times, but of course, as very few have seen him at work, nobody had yet to praise him on his actual work process. "I think it's so cool, how you manage to put watches together. I could never do that."

"And that is why you envy me? Because I can arrange some metal together?" It sounded like something his mother would have said to him, reminding how meaningless this work really was.

Her eyes widened and she pulled her head back a little in surprise. "You make it sound like anyone could do it."

"It is not difficult."

"For you," she countered. "But I couldn't do that. Are you trying to tell me I'm some kind of idiot?" She really was just teasing him, though sometimes she wondered if he really did think that. He was probably a lot smarter than her, with his ability to fix things so well.

Gabriel brought his lips once again to form that frown. She saw those often, and she believed she'd only seen him smile once. That was when she came back last weekend. He must have thought she was going to bail, as a matter of fact, she recalled him looking a bit surprised. _He looks great with a smile, _she thought. _That's my next goal—to make him smile more. _

He didn't know what such remarks would imply. Gabriel wasn't the best at socializing, because he had no friends. Then again, that was probably why he had no friends. It was an awful cycle, leaving him very lonely indeed.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to suggest that you are unintelligent. I just don't see it as being very important, like being president or special in some way."

"Why would you want to be president? Everyone would complain about everything to you." She put her elbows on the table as she leaned over. "You'd stay up in the office with the world on your shoulders all the time. _And_ you'd have to listen to some really boring things about politics. Of course, maybe it's because I always found politics kind of boring. It doesn't seem fun at all, sure I guess the president is special and everything, but there are better ways to be special, you know personally, I think…" He watched her intensely as he listened. He'd never heard someone discuss presidency in such a manner, and yet he couldn't disagree with her. "…I became a cheerleader because I wanted to be…well, not special…just popular, I guess." She pulled herself up and shrugged. She gestured with her hands, her mood somewhat somber, "Not that I'm complaining, but I don't know if it is what is cracked up to be. Besides, what is so great about shouting out loud and knowing a few moves? _You_ can put a _whole_ watch together! Believe me, not a lot of people can do that."

He thought about this for a moment. "I don't think it's that easy to be a cheerleader either, as I don't think I could jump like they do." Claire's smile lit up the room and he felt a little warm, which didn't make sense, but he liked it.

He liked her.

And at that realization, his face fell as he brought his defenses up. He puts the device on again.

"I have work to do," he says firmly and she frowned. He hates any looks of disapproval, but this is worse than the harsh expressions he's gotten from his mother. This is one is tinged with sadness and disappointment. This one isn't because of his failure, but because of…

What is it? Why does she appear to be so sad?

He sighed as he decided to appease her. "If you keep quiet and maintain a little distance, you may watch until someone shows up." She smiled again.

Claire felt like she was making real progress, though she didn't know why that made her so happy. She was going to have to quit showing up here soon. That—she did not understand why, maybe because it did not give her enough time to see him smile—sucked, and she let her smile fall. Gabriel didn't see it as he had already pulled all his focus back on the watch.

* * *

Janice jumped off the couch at the sight of her husband's arrival, tossing the phone aside. "Where the hell have you been?" She watched as he entered, but her eyes widened in surprise as she saw a frightened little brown-haired girl trailing behind him.

"It's okay, Molly. Come on in," Matt said soothingly, and the little girl stepped over the threshold and made her way over towards Matt, clutching a white fluffy stuff animal tightly in her arms.

He gazed into his wife's face that is still set in surprise. "Uh, Janice, I know I should've asked first," he said, slowly moving closer while holding Molly's hand. "But she really had no place to go. We kept her at the police station while everyone figured out what to do, and this what they came up with." He looked down at Molly. "I got permission to keep her for at least the night, while they try to find her parents."

Janice's face broke into a smile. _It's moments like this I remember why I love him so much. _Matt was only just coming into the realization he was reading thoughts, but he still did not believe it. "Did you say something?"

She blinked in confusion, but still smiled. "No," she answered, also coming closer to them.

"Oh, I thought…" He mumbled a bit. _He thought I said what? _"That you remembered why you loved me." _How did he…he know? _She shook her head.

"Of course, I love you, especially when you do something wonderful like giving a little girl a place to stay for the night." Janice leaned down and looks into Molly's eyes. "And you are welcome to stay as long as you need."

* * *

Peter found himself out in the rain, while his brother Nathan pretended to be nice to a crowd of people he thought actually gave a damn about him. He gazed up at the sky.

Why did he feel like he could fly? In his mind, he finally began to separate the dreams from the memories and he saw it was his brother Nathan who flew.

"Peter," a soft voice calls out in slight panic, he turns to see Simone standing outside, already wrapped in her coat, and an umbrella in her hand, "I want to…"

He sighed. "You should go back to the party."

She shook her head. "Why would I want to be with those jerks, when you're out here?" She smiled, but then her face falters a bit. "I was worried about you Peter. You were like a son to my father. It would have devastated him to know that you had..."

"Listen," he grasped her hands. "I did not try to commit suicide, I'm not sure what happened, but I would never do that."

She gave him a soft smile. "I know."

"You do?" He is a bit taken aback, and tilted his head in confusion.

"Yeah," she nodded as she brought a hand forward to touch his face. "You care too much about others to do that. Why would you want to kill yourself when so many people need you…when I need you?"

He was amazed by the sincerity of her words, finding himself bringing his head down, so his lips were closer hers. She stepped closer, also leaning towards him. Their lips meet. It was just a soft, sweet kiss, but it was exactly what they needed to start.

* * *

Gabriel knew they would soon tell him he had no powers. He knew it and dreaded it, just like he knew Claire was going to leave, that she was only staying out of duty. She will leave after her job is done, and he hated that he doesn't want her to go. Desperation was rising inside of him. It was only a matter time before he decided to do something drastic.

When the first part of his prediction came true, he realized that knowing doesn't ease the pain or make the desperation disappear.

"Are you saying I am broken?" Gabriel asked as calmly as possible, rubbing his glasses. "That I am supposed to be special, but something inside me is preventing it?" A tiny sliver of hope rises in Gabriel, but it quickly returned to the dark places of his heart.

"Not at all," Chandra shook his head. "Merely, that I must have made in error in calculations." Eden watched them both intensely, holding her breath. She wanted to reach out and touch Gabriel, but she knew he would reject her.

"Your calculations?" Gabriel almost snarls. "And who does your calculations say is special?"

"Mr. Gray, there is no need to get hostile."

"Hostile? You come in my life and tell me that there is something special about me, and then when it doesn't fit in with your calculations, you want to give up on me."

"Gabriel," Eden's voice was soft and tender as her hand stopped short of touching his face. "We won't give up on you. If something shows up, you can call us." Gabriel knows what that tone indicates: pity.

"Don't," he growls. "I won't stand for your pity. I don't need it."

"Mr. Gray, I request that you leave immediately," Dr. Sueresh said in a professional tone, hoping not to agitate him further. Angry, Gabriel is about to say something else when he noticed the folder, the one with all the names of the so-called special people. It was so near him…

He changed tactics, his entire demeanor cooling quickly now that he had a new goal in mind. "Fine, I'll leave."

Gabriel, who has tried plenty of things to sneak under his mother's nose, managed to swipe the folder right under Dr. Suresh nose.

* * *

Claire was currently thinking about what to do about the tutor thing. She had yet to think of anyone who was good in math and would keep their mouths quiet about teaching her. It was too tempting to have the opportunity to sell off Claire to Jackie, she knew that the evil cheer captain was just waiting for such a thing to humiliate Claire and remind Claire where she thought she belonged. So the choices were so far she either pays somebody or…nothi ng else.

"So," Melody asks, "Did you hear?"

"Here what?" Claire tilts her head as narrows her blond brows in confusion.

Melody smiles, "Well," She has her hands behind her back, playing coy, "You might want to run…now," Claire and Melody gazes over to where Jackie was stomping down the hall.

"YOU!" Jackie points at Claire—who just rolls her eyes--while yelling. Jackie makes her way down the hall shoving a couple poor students in the process causing books to scatter, people to retreat to wherever they could and many more staring while they point at the scene that has begun to unfold. "HOW DARE YOU!"

"What…?" Claire looks over to the other blond, "What is going on?" Melody has a fearful smile on her face and was trying to disappear, "Melody! Don't leave."

"You are one of the candidates for homecoming queen," She replies quickly as she vanishes into the nearest classroom, just in time to avoid Miss Jackie who has arrived. Claire just stands there, annoyed.

The Evil blonde huffs loudly, "I'm the one who is supposed to be queen. Now you get in there and tell them you don't want it," She points towards the office.

Claire shakes her head and disbelief, and then turns around, "What are you talking about?" Sometimes, it is best to play stupid even though she knows exactly what Jackie is talking about, though honestly she forgotten that she was going to be a homecoming queen nominee, but there was no way she was backing down. She is not going to let Jackie have way.

"Don't play stupid Claire you know that you are nominated for homecoming queen."

"Really? That's exciting."

Jackie grabs her arm, but Claire releases is, "You are going to tell the people in the office you don't want to be queen."

"But won't some people be upset with me, I can't disappoint them. And if I drop-out some people might think you didn't win fairly."

"I don't care, you are going to quit."

Claire sighs and rolls her eyes, "I can't,"

"You can and will!"

"I'm sorry but I can't besides it isn't like I'll win." _Yeah, that's a lie, I can totally win._

"Probably not," Jackie agrees as she flips her blonde hair, "But hate for you to embarrass yourself." _Right…Jackie; you are such a good friend. That's total bullshit._

"That's so nice," she smiles but quickly drops it, "But I'm not quitting."

"Yes, you are!"

"No!"

"You will." Jackie is getting even more tense, annoyed, and desperate. The truth is that Jackie doesn't want to admit it but a lot of people like Claire more. It is why the queen of popularity does everything she can to make things hard for Claire.

"I'm not going to, so let me go to class," with that Claire tries once more to leave.

"No!" Jackie suddenly forced Claire to face her and slapped her. Claire immediately touches her face, surprise that Jackie actually did that, but it doesn't take her long to regain her senses and her only reply to the other cheerleader is:

"You hit like a girl." Jackie was about to smack her again when they hear a voice.

"Miss. Wilcox," They both look up to see one of their math teacher's with a disapproving stare, "That will not get you your place as homecoming queen."

"But Claire started it …" Jackie put her hands on hips as she tries playing the innocent card, which for a girl like her it never works.

"I find that hard to believe as I just saw you hit her when Claire was going to class. I suggest you do the same before I give you a pink slip, and you know what happens if you get another one of those." She emphasizes her words with the shake of her head.

"Yes, Ms. Smith," Jackie growls.

"Well, thanks," Claire states as the Queen of Bitches leaves, "Like you said I better be getting to class soon."

"Yeah, well this is my planning period, why don't I give you a pass. Let's discuss a couple of things."

"Did I do something wrong?" She inquires.

Ms. Smith let out a laugh, "Oh no, I just wanted to know about how things were going with the t…"

"Okay, okay," Claire rushed her toward the math classroom. Ms. Smith lets out a slight chuckle as she followed behind her.

"So, how is the search going with the tutor? You'll need to start soon."

"I know, but I don't know anyone good in math,"

"Surely there is someone?" Madeline had to choose her words carefully, if she was going to push Claire in the right direction, "An older neighbor, family friend?" Claire shakes her head of course Mrs. Smith already knew the answers to those questions, "Maybe an acquaintance at work?"

"I…how did you know I had a job?" Ms. Smith has an answer prepared, she has several answers, for many possible questions Claire might have. She is playing a dangerous game and you cannot go unprepared in such danger.

"A lot of teens work Claire, it was just an assumption."

"Well… it isn't a real job," _Your almost there Claire, just say the name…just say Gabriel, so I can... Ms. Smith stops that line of thinking_. "I don't get paid, besides am the only one there except Gabriel who is…" Her eyes widen slightly as she realizes something, "Who I think," She is now wearing a smile, "is probably good at a lot of things…." She shakes her head in disbelief, "I don't know why I didn't think of this sooner…" She looks up at Ms. Smith, "I think he would be good at math! I may just kill two birds with one stone."

It is perfect. She will get to see Gabriel more and if she did have to pay she could just work it off, which meant more time at the shop. "Thanks," She grins at her teacher. "Can I have that note now?"

"Not sure what I did, but glad I could help," Ms. Smith replies with a well-rehearsed smile that does little to cover the small mischief dancing in her eyes--not that Claire notices because she is too caught up in her plans—as she makes her way over to her desk grabbing a pen and paper, quickly writing a note.

"Of course, I'll need to meet with him to make sure he is alright," She began writing out an excuse, "But I hope it works out for you," Ms. Smith cannot hide the warmth she feels. She is so close to meeting him again. She has not seen him since he was a child, and there is no way he would recognize her now, which is kind of sad, but at least she will see him again. After that, someday he will know who she is.

* * *

Issac Medenz stares at the picture with incredulity. _This…this can't be real. _The picture is a perfect image of Simone and a guy whom he has recently became acquainted with, Peter Petrelli. _Simone loves me, I love her. This cannot be right, maybe I don't predict future, but…this looks so real, but Simone would never…_

He takes the picture and tears it apart, as small as he can do it with determined anger. Simone has not given up on him, she can't.

* * *

Gabriel stares at the list, more specifically the top of it. There is a name of a person who he does not know and an address he has never seen; all in all, the person has no meaning to him. There really isn't a good reason for him to have stolen the list. His mother would never have approved of this behavior.

No, there was no reason, except one little thing, something that is rather foolish if you think about it. Somebody of Gabriel's intelligence should have never given into such a possibility, that extraordinary people exist, but here was the suppose list of those people.

He grabs his phone and dials the number, but after several tries during the day, he does not get a reply back. He slams the phone down. He is completely frustrated when Claire walks in.

* * *

"Mom," Claire looks at mother she appears to be a little disoriented.

"Uh, which way am I suppose to turn?" Sandra asks.

Claire's confusion is present as she says, "The same as always, just a right. Are you alright?"

"Yeah dear, just had a senior moment," her mom tries to brush it off as if it is nothing.

"But you're not a senior," She studies her mom for a moment, maybe Claire was overly concern, but something seems wrong with her mom, "You sure you okay?"

"I'm fine, look," She points at the shop as she pulls in the lot, "We're here," Claire pulls her purse from out the car and still stares at her mom, "I'm fine." Sandra rolls her eyes, "There is nothing to worry about." She looks Claire right in the eye, "okay…now give me a goodbye hug, dear and I'll see you in a couple hours." Claire indulges her mother before giving her mom one last look of concern as she enters the shop.

Claire immediately dives for the back of the shop were Gabriel is, so she can ask him about tutoring. She sees him hang up the phone as she makes her way over to him.

"Hello," She greets.

"You should be at the front," His voice, the one she like so much, sounds so…it is the same and yet it isn't.

"Um…I need to ask you something."

He takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of nose, "What do you want?"

"Could you tutor me?" That question caught him completely by surprise and though there was no way he could have misheard her, he still feels as though he has.

"What?"

"In math,"

"Why? Don't they…" He looks at her and she is smiling again, and he likes but he does not even understand why she is asking him, "Have tutors at your school?"

"Yeah, but you are probably smarter than everyone in my school."

He shook his head, "No,"

"Why not?" Her face falters. He hates it when she does that and his confusion fades into irritation.  
"Claire," his harsh voice is back, "I'm not in the mood for your pestering."

"I'm not pestering you, this is artful persuasion…well okay, begging,"

"Tutor me, please?"

"No,"

"It is not that big of deal, we are friends aren't we?"

"You just work here."

"But…" She was staring at him as her voice cracks, "You let me see how you make the watches…"

"Every time," He snarled, "I start to think I like you…," he begins staring at her, he wants to hurt, has to, and he does not entirely understand why. Perhaps, it was so she will not hurt him first, "I'm reminded as to why I don't."

She looked a little hurt, "You don't like me? I thought we were friends…"

"I don't have friends Claire. I never have and never will." He yells, "Friends are useless anyway."

"But…" She does not understand why it hurt so much, nor has she comprehend why she wanted him to like her so much. She thought about the people she called friends and knows they are not, because she has had a real friend. She thrown it away for what? Fear of what…the pain of being humiliate, maybe, the pain of feeling different…, "I don't have friends either." What is it that is so important that she...Suddenly, she feels tears pouring down and all she wants to do is get away from the pain.

She runs.

Her vision is blurred, and she was not paying attention to where she was going. She did not see it, until it was too late…

A loud, horrible, screeching sound was heard.

**

* * *

**

Author's Commentary:

**To Reviewers: **So every time I feel kind of down and think I should just quit and let the better writers take over, somebody writes an extraordinary review that makes me think for a little while that my writing does not completely suck.

**SO THANK YOU TO ALL REVIEWERS!**

**Last Scene: **That last scene was the hardest thing to write in this chapter, though so far not the hardest one ever. You know when you write something and it gets deleted, or misplaced, then you totally rewrite, it seems it is either more awesome or lame. The first time I wrote the whole ending scene it was good. Is this version awesome or lame, I do not know? All I know is that it demanded to be written, though it refused to tell me how. The plot bunnies are evil you know they give me all these ideas then run away, while I try to string them together.

**Guess: **Can you guess which scene in this chapter is my favorite? Do you guys know what is going to happen next? I left it at a cliff hanger, I bet some of you will get it right.

**On Writing**: The goal is always to hit at least five thousand words which I think is between 8-10 pages. If you cannot tell this story will be fairly long, not epic, but guessing anywhere between 20-30 chapters. I am passed 50 pages, and on my way to 40,000 words. I'm pretty sure this will be one of the longest story that I have written, once it is done. We haven't gotten to the second part of the story; I guess you can call the first part the Introduction. The Introduction leads into Discovery as we are introduce the characters as they are discovering each other and their powers. There are two more parts after this. So far I'm calling them the Runaway and Hero parts. Runaway, I believe will be mostly Sylaire action. The next two parts, I think will be relatively short, though the Hero part, which is just mainly where all our heroes try to save the world will be a few chapters leading into well…to the end. I won't say more than that, because then I'll give away the whole plot.

**The Show:** Yes, yes and yes, I cannot wait to see the new episode tonight!

**Spuffy compare to Sylaire?**

Hey, for those who were once upon a time watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Does anybody see the similarities in Buffy and Spike compared to Sylar and Claire? Spike was a badass vampire who was a great nemesis for Buffy. Sylar was the badass villain of season one. Buffy was in high school, Claire was in high school…ha and they were both cheerleaders at one time. Spike comes to seek Buffy's help, Sylar comes to get Claire's help. Spike becomes obsess with Buffy, thinks he is in love. I think Sylar is going to become obsess with Claire, if he isn't already. Buffy wanted a normal life, so does Claire. Yeah…lots of things in common.

**Randomness:** So a family friend calls me on the phone and is like I'm coming over at 3:30 to drop off some hamsters. I'm like…uh. Like I just happened to a have hamster cage and food, don't you know I just keep all this random pet supplies—that costs money—around just in case, somebody wants to randomly give something. Luckily, she brought things with her and it gave me a little time to get things for them. Anyway I love my new tiny hamsters. I can hold them, each in my hand. I just thought it was funny how got them. They are Bronson and Brayden, I spent all this time looking for names that reflects their personality and end up just picking those names because they sound nice.


	7. Unpredictable Attachments

**Author's Note:** I'm sorry for extremely late update.

_**Be My Escape**_

_**Chapter Seven:** Unpredictable Attachments_

Gabriel heard it—that horrible sob of pain that came from the blonde cheerleader. It torn at his heart, making it ached in guilt for having caused her to hurt. The burning sensation boiled inside of him, threatening to consume him whole. His feet seemed to have a mind of its own—or rather, it took a while for his brain to register his body had acted upon his desire to comfort her.

It took him another moment to realize a car had come out of nowhere, but this time, there was need for no hesitation, no need for an analysis of the scenario about to happen. His mind had not needed a second to realize what he felt.

Fear—for what he could lose. He had not even been slightly aware that something-- no, some_one_ was already so important to him. He didn't know he was invested—too invested—in her. That it was too late to back out, to return to his old ways, the ones before Claire came into his life. Now he gave a damn about someone other than his mother, other than himself, and had put himself out there in more than one way.

His body moved automatically, instinctively aware of the fears deep within himself.

His arms reached out for her…

One second she had been running blindly. She missed the red blur speeding towards her, only hearing the sudden honk that warned her of an incoming car. She looked up in surprise, and her brain registered several things in the span of two seconds.

First, she was on the road (_when on earth had she gotten there?_) Second, a red car was barely ten meters away from hitting her and turning her into a pancake with a side of road-kill (_Oh my God, I'm gonna die!)_. Third, something had wrapped around her waist, something she felt had strength and warmth.

A pair of gentle, yet firm, arms had wrapped around her waist, pulling her away from the path of the oncoming death-mobile. She watched, almost detachedly, as the car stopped and a man scrambled out of what should have been her cause of death.

There was a strangely relieved sensation that had coursed through her as she leaned against the warmth of her savior's—very masculine—chest. Those strong arms were still securely wrapped around her waist, and in her shock, it never occurred to her that she still had not looked up to see who had rescued her.

The driver made his way over to her and there was various honking and yelling from the cars behind him. "Is she alright?" he asked in a panicked tone, "Should I call…a…ambulance? Do we need to report this?"

"No."

In an instant, Claire realized who her rescuer was. She gazed up in disbelief because she had known who that voice belonged to. It was deep, smooth and sexy—just as she remembered from the first day she met him. Her eyes took in the barely expressive face, though his brown eyes swirled with some kind of emotion. She was not sure what emotion was there, but it filled her with the kind of giddiness that only a teenager would feel about her crush.

"Everything is alright," Gabriel added, and Claire could tell it was for the shaken man's benefit. "Nobody got hurt. There's no need to cause any additional trouble for yourself or her."

Gabriel was sure he sounded unconcerned, cold, and maybe inhuman. The problem wasn't that he hadn't felt anything—it was that there was **too** much emotion for him to process in that instant, so he ignored it for the time being until he had a moment alone to deal with all of them.

The man looked at him with hesitation. "Are you sure?"

Gabriel nodded, leaving no room for argument. "Yes."

"Well okay then," the man rubbed the back of head, unconsciously smoothing down his barely there hair. Based on his nervous actions, this guy was apparently easily stressed. "Guess I'll be on my way."

The man went back into his car, sparing one small glance before taking off. It was as if nothing happened because the rest of traffic went back to speeding along the road, the spectators from the sidewalk resumed talking on their phones, and the runners had not even take a break from their MP3 players.

As for Claire, it seemed as if the world had held its breath, waiting for her death, but when it had not happen, everything pick up where it left off.

Even the scenario she had run away from.

When Gabriel spoke again, she came back to reality. "Let's get back to the shop."

She allowed him to lead her, feeling a small amount of heat coming from the combination of her hand in his. It was…nice. _Secure_. Once they were inside, Claire could only say what was on her mind.

"You just saved me," she said almost breathlessly. "You're totally my hero!"

* * *

"I'll be right there," Mohinder called out in response to the knock on his door. He slipped on his shirt and quickly made his way to the door, he pondered on who it could be. "Hello…" He trailed off once his eyes registered who it was. She was the last person he expected to knock at his door. "Eden, I believe."

"Yes, hi." She smiled and held up a ceramic dish. "I was wondering…" She knew she should not be there, mending fences between father and son might jeopardize her assignment, and yet…she sincerely liked Dr. Suresh. He had seemed so lonely sometimes, and it was obvious he missed his family and she had not received any orders to keep Mohinder away, so…here she was. "I'll get straight to the point. It's about your father."

He was not sure what to expect but some stranger who he had just recently became acquainted with had no business in stepping into family matters, especially since her acquaintance with his father could have only existed for a few short months. What could she had possibly learned in that time? "I don't see what insight you could possibly offer."

That was the kind of answered she had expected and she gave him one of her well-practiced polite smiles. "Well, sometimes strangers can see things you don't. And besides, you know you really have nothing to lose." She uncovered the dish and waved it in front of him, "I'm a good cook. Come on."

He could not help but smile at the sight of hers. It was rather warm and pleasant looking; he could not stop himself from once more thinking of how attractive she was, as well as how kind she seemed. He also figured that she was just as stubborn as either he or his father. It was probably better to just give in, listen to what she had to say and send her on her way, rather than argue with her. "I suppose not," he agreed, moving to let her pass. She just walked by him toward the small table in the center of the room.

After he had some plates brought by room service, they have began to eat. "So," he started because it was just best to get this over with. "What did you wish to discuss precisely?"

"Well, I…" She thought for a moment as she chewed. "Your father really believes in his work."

"I am aware of that, but what he believes is something that would not be possible for several million years."

Eden sighed. "Forget the fact that you don't believe it. Your father does and he needs you to understand that."

"How can I—?"

"Mohinder, I get that it seems impossible but there are people who believe in soul mates, luck, fate, and other things that some may not believe but most people accept that some people believe in it, even though those ideas are really crazy."

"Forget his absurd ideas, he should be home with his family."

"Well, maybe the sooner you stop arguing with him and find a way to understand him you might eventually be able to convince him to go home!" she told him. It took her a moment to realize what she said, and she was immensely glad that the company didn't monitor her every move, or else they would have heard her—almost traitorous—words. "Or you might find yourself believing him as well," she added.

"I suppose your suggestion has some merit," Mohinder admitted. "Perhaps by understanding why father believes in his research I can better convince him to come home."

"Yeah," Eden replied, even as she prayed that was not the case. She actually hoped that Mohinder ended up helping his father. Maybe together, they might be able to solve this puzzle faster. She didn't know if the company would factor in Mohinder, all she had known was that she was to make sure Dr. Suresh pursue his research and never find Claire Bennet. "Well, I'm afraid I'll have to be going."

"It was pleasant having some company around," he said just before she left.

* * *

Simone scrambled for her clothes that were sprawled across the floor. She briefly wondered to herself what she had been thinking as to have wound up in bed with Peter. Things were not going great with Isaac and she did not know what she was going to do about him. That wasn't what was the most awful about this situation though.

It was Peter.

Peter—who was such a sweet man who had aided her father in the worst of times—sincerely liked her. She liked him too…a lot actually. If she was not still in love with Isaac, she could probably make it work with—very little effort—Peter. He was everything a woman could possible need and want.

She slipped back into her dress, the silk embraced her small figure and the red contrasted with her dark skin. She made her way over to her shoes that were near the doorway of the bedroom. In one swift and quiet movement, she had slipped her feet into the heels. Perhaps, this was not such a brilliant idea because heels clang which made noise which woke people up.

A dark messy head rose up with a mumble out of grogginess. Simone stopped for a moment, her brown eyes looking up at the sight before her. That's when Peter's eyes lined with hers, and it took him a moment to understand what he was seeing.

"Where are you going? Why don't you stay for breakfast?" he asked her with a smile that had added to the guilt and forced her to face this situation head on as she made her way back toward him.

"Look…" She brought her hands up slightly as she searched for the words. "I…really like you…"

Even in his sleepy state, he knew he was going to dread the words that would come. "But?"

"But I'm still in love with someone else and I need time to sort this out." The tone of her voice revealed the regret, along with the glistening of her eyes.

Peter braced himself on his elbows as he studied her. "I don't know what I'm supposed to say to that?"

"I don't think there is anything to say but goodbye…for now." She retreated to the door, escaping as quickly as she could.

Peter threw a light punch against the black silk of his pillow. He had not been thinking straight either. He had just been so upset with Nathan for lying, for making him look weak…maybe he was. One kiss from Simone and he couldn't help but want more. He had not even thought about her being with someone else, he just wanted to be with her.

* * *

When Hiro opened his eyes he found himself back in the tiny cubicle at the precise moment he had left. It was almost like it had all been a dream, like it never happened at all. But someone like Hiro had a sense of faith and duty that was rare in the human soul. It was his faith that made him believed that he had really traveled to another place in time. "I did it!" he exclaimed, which only earned him a look of disbelief from his friend.

"You still think you can alter time."

"Yes," Hiro nodded, and then adjusted the black-framed glasses covering his brown, joyful eyes. "I did something even better," he added, almost bursting with glee. "I traveled to New York."

"New York?" Ando asked, "Of all the places, why there? I would think Las Vegas would be better—pretty women and lots of money."

"I didn't pick it," Hiro held his head up in a demonstration of pride. "It was my destiny as a hero so I could…" The pride and joy faded away into realization that he had just witness a terrifying event. "New York!"

Ando rolled his eyes, but patiently reminded his friend, "Yes, you said you went there. I think you should get back to work before the supervisor realizes that you aren't working."

"No, no, no! New York is going to blow up! I have to go back, I have to save the world and I need your help." Hiro quickly opened the comic book to show his friend.

"You need my help?"Ando questioned annoyed, not even glancing at the comic book that Hiro tried to get him to look at.

"Yes, every hero needs a sidekick." He spoke with a confidence that seemed silly to Ando, especially when he adjusted his glasses.

"I will not be your sidekick!" Ando snapped as the supervisor made his way towards their cubicles.

"No time to argue! We must go now!" Hiro was determined to save the world. It was his destiny after all. As he did not speak English, he needed Ando's help, willing or not. He touched his friend's shoulder and closed his eyes.

* * *

Now he had planned on returning to New York, he thought it was his destiny, but destiny always followed its own rules and when he opened his eyes they were in a ?

When Claire stepped into the shop, dread took over. She was, without a doubt, in for a lecture of some sort, probably something on the lines of how this was a perfect demonstration as why they are not and cannot be friends. Gabriel inhaled loudly and let it out with heavy sigh. He gripped her hand tighter.

"Don't ever do that, again!" It was as if everything that had been deeply buried inside him had suddenly sprung out from beneath surface. "You almost got yourself killed!"

Claire, already struggling to keep the disappointment from showing itself to him, muttered bitterly, "What do you care, were not even friends?"

"Because!" Gabriel snapped back, and then shut his mouth when he had not know what to say. He quickly settled for a reply. "I don't want to see anybody hurt."

A derisive snort escaped her. "Really, that's it? So you still don't see me as your friend?"

"No," his voice was cold again. He had not known why he held onto the truth, the obvious. Of course, she was his friend. What else could she be that would make her safety and happiness so important? Make him so consumed with emotion? He remembered briefly how numb he felt when he thought she had been lost. "Now let's get back to work."

Claire hated the times he sounded like that._ He's going to pretend none of this happened!_ She thought, both angry and insulted. She wouldn't admit that her disappointment had grown, forming a heavy sensation in her chest._ Well…I'm not going to have that. _"Fine, you know what? I'm going to leave and I'm not going to come back!" She marched toward the door.

Gabriel reached out for her, but quickly brought back his hand. "Please…" The tone had sounded a bit desperate, and both of them hated to hear it; he because he felt weak, she because it tore at something inside of her. Despite this, Gabriel could not let her leave, not with what just almost happened. "…don't go. I'm...sorry." She stopped and stared at him.

"Sorry for what?" Her voice was almost a whisper.

"For making you cry, for almost getting you killed…"

"That was not your fault," she reassured him with a soft smile that quickly faded into a slight pout, "but you should be sorry for making me cry, not just anyone can do that you know."

"It _was_ my fault," he insisted, "if I hadn't said those things…if…" He still held onto it, to that simple truth. If he said it, if he told her, it would open a door. And if he let her in, she might break him. That terrified him, but he had to tell her. She deserved to know, "I had admitted that I do care…"

Her pout was replaced with a wide grin, one of 1000-watt smiles that somehow managed to make him feel good every time. "Really? So you do see me as a friend?" Her voice was dipped in hope and fear.

"Uh yeah…I think…the truth is I can't really recall ever having a real friend."

"Never?" The concept of not ever having friends was impossible to her. Everyone had a friend a time or two. Didn't they? "How is that possible?

Gabriel shrugged, uncomfortable at the topic, but he had just admitted that he saw her as a friend. Friends tell each other things, don't they? "I guess…when I was school, I spent most of my time in the library studying, and I worked here part-time to help mom pay the bills."

His mother's voice echoed through his mind. _Friends take away from studying, friends betray you, and they…leave. _

He almost shook his head, but her voice faded away quickly. "There was one person I was sort of close to when I went to high school and well..." _That boy is an awful influence! You spend more time with him discussing comics books then you do studying! _

He let those thoughts slip away, and almost as quickly, another replaced it. Why did she care so much? Why did she let him hurt so much, he never had that kind of effect on anyone before.

"And why do you want to be friends anyway?" He rubbed the back of his neck, never realizing he was doing it because he was nervous.

She sighed and slid her hand in her pockets. "Well… truth be told, I barely get along with any my friends. Actually, one of my so called friends is a complete bitch." Can you be friends with someone you hate? Apparently so, because she still called Jackie that. "There is nobody I can talk to, you know? About real stuff," she clarified.

"I don't understand," he admitted. "Can't you talk to your parents?" He made his way to the counter and Claire followed suit, pulling out a chair to sit right next to him.

"Not about everything." She rested her head on hands and her elbows on the counter.

"Well, I have nobody to talk to at all," he replied monotonously, but there were slight changes in his face that indicated the sadness.

Claire shifted awkwardly. "Oh... What about your mother?"

Gabriel almost snorted at the thought. "Mother… well, I have tried, I suppose. It's just complicated."

She gave him a knowing look. "That's what people say when they don't want to tell you what they are really feeling. I should know, I used it with my friends on occasion and my parents."

Gabriel offered a short, forced smile. "I believe I had all the drama I could handle for the moment. I need to go back to work."

She pouted slightly. "Fine," she acquiesced. A moment later, she added, "Does this mean you're gonna tutor me?"

He sighed. "Can you hold off asking me until another time? It has been a stressful day."

"Okay," she agreed with a mischievous grin. "But I'm going to ask first thing next time, alright?"

"Yes, I feared as much."

* * *

Molly was lying in the Parker's guest room, cuddling her white teddy bear tightly as she found herself tossed and turned on the bed. The vision was overwhelming and she began to whimper from fear.

_She peaked through the crack of the door as her father stood there beside her mother. They seemed to be preparing themselves just as two large female dragons, one with red hair and the other with blonde, came bursting forth through the door._

"_We have come for you… you can make this easy or you can make it hard." She watched as her father transformed into a blue superhero suit. She knew he would save the day. He brought at his ice hands, but was quickly subdued by the blonde dragon, who roared as she restrained his power. Some kind of white light wrapped around his wrists, and before her mother could anything, she also was restrained. The blonde-headed green dragon laughed. "Ha! I guess there was no hard way."_

"_At least for us," the red headed one added as she pulled out her large cell phone. "We got them, alright. Now all we need to do is find her." The last thing Molly saw before she let out a shrilling scream was a large black claw coming for her. _

"Ahh! Leave me alone! Go away!" She felt something grasped her arm. "Please let me go!"

"Molly! Molly!" She heard her name and opened her eyes to see that it was her hero. "It is okay." She latched tightly onto him.

"They took mommy and daddy! The dragons took them!" she cried.

"Who?"

"The dragons!"

He tried to sooth her. "Sweetie, it's okay. They aren't here, and I'll find your parents, okay? I promise."

She gazed up at him. "You promise?" she asked, just to make sure.

He smiled and brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. "I do. Now why don't you try to get some sleep?"

"Hey." Matt turned to see Janice standing at the doorway in a floral robe. "Is everything alright?"

"I think so," he replied. "Molly just had a nightmare is all."

"Oh sweetie," his wife sat on the other side of her, "what was it about?"

"Dragons," the little girl muttered under the fluffy white of her plushie bear.

"Well, you know what gets rid of dragons, right?" Molly shook her head from side to side. "No?" Janice grinned. "Good thing I do."

Molly looked up at her curiously. "What is it?"

"It is a potion that wizards used to make them disappear, and I know how to make some. I'll be right back."

Janice disappeared into the kitchen and when she came back she held a spray bottle that contained blue dyed water. "This outta to do the trick." She sprayed the room lightly, then sat the bottle down on the night stand. "Now they should be gone."

"Really?" Molly looked at her and Matt smiled encouragingly.

"Yeah, and if they come back, Janice made plenty to last for a couple of days," he added.

"Yep," Janice agreed. "And this works on monsters, bad wizards and all kind of scary things."

"Really? So none of the bad stuff can get me?" Molly inquired, her eyes wide with wonder.

"Nope," Janice confirmed. "They couldn't anyway. Matt is a police officer. He keep all the bad things away," Janice stated. "This is just extra protection." She tapped the bottle. "Now," she leaned over and kissed Molly lightly on the forehead, "I think you should try to get some sleep again."

"Agreed," Matt said as he tucked her back into bed. "We will be just one room over, okay?"

"Okay," Molly nodded.

Janice and Matt headed back to the room. "I'm a little worried that those dragons might not have been just dragons after all," Matt commented when they were far enough.

"Really? She is just a little girl. They were probably nothing," she said.

"I don't know. It's possible she saw who took her parents."

"You don't even know if her parents were taken," Janice reminded him, trying to be optimistic. "And didn't the others at the station already question her?"

"Yeah, but she was so frightened nobody could really get anything from her and nobody wanted to push her either."

"So even if she did see something, how are you going to get it from her?"

"I don't know, I was just thinking out loud. I'm really tired, so I guess I'll worry about it in the morning."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Janice agreed and she kissed him on the cheek before settling into bed.

* * *

After Simone gotten into less fancy attire, she made her way back to Isaac's loft. She had a few more paintings to pick up, but as she reached the door to open it up, she hesitated. The last time she saw Isaac, he was on the floor, almost dead. _If Peter hadn't… _she sighed. Her thoughts always returned to him and when they did, her mind would go straight to last night, which caused her to be consumed with guilt. She shook her head and gathered her confidence before she opened the door, only to find Isaac tearing up various pictures.

"Isaac what are you doing?" she asked hesitantly she stepped closer to him.

"They're lies!" he yelled he tossed the pieces in a mad act of desperation. "All of them!"

"Isaac, they are just pictures!" She was somewhat frightened

"NO! I thought…" He shook his head. "I'm going to quit the drugs," he grasped her hands in his, "this time for real!" He said as if it was a promise and for him it was, but Simone had not quite seen it that way.

"You said that before what's different now?" She wanted to believe him, but she had known the likely hood of him doing exactly what he said was slim. He had promised to quit and than it would be let me take this drug one more time. Isaac had no idea how late he was and she had not either until that moment.

"Now, I know I can't see the future." _There is just no way…Simone she can't…I love her. _

"Why does that even matter?"

"Because I don't need it anymore, because the world isn't going to blow up because there is no way that picture could be real."

"What picture?" she asked, she glanced around the room at the strips of paintings to see if she could find the image that bothered him, but she had not found it. "I don't see which one…"

"I destroyed it. It is completely torn, but it was you and that Peter guy…" He was still pretty upset about it, because the image was so _real_, the emotions that he had felt… Simone sincerely liked Peter, but there was no way she would betray him like that.

She took a step closer to him and tried to search his face to see if she could understand him better. "Well, he worked for my father, but I don't know why you are so upset about it?"

"You two were kissing!" She stopped her approach. He had known. How did he? Wait, did he say he saw it in one of his paintings? It couldn't be anything but a coincidence, right? "Isaac, I…"

Somehow he looked into her eyes and he saw it: the guilt. "You…" He shook his head in disbelief. "You kissed him! Is that all you two did?"

"It is none of your business what I did and didn't do!"

"Yes, it is!"

"Why? Because all the sudden you are going quit doing drugs? You think you can dictate what I can and can't do. For the last year or so, I been carrying this relationship all by myself and I am tired!" As she said it, she realized it was true. Perhaps she was not so upset that she betrayed Isaac, but maybe she was tired of loving Isaac. She just couldn't do it anymore. It would be easier to be with Peter.

"Simone," his voice was desperate. "What else can I give you?"

"I don't know," She answered quietly, but the truth was she was not sure if there was anything else could give her, "Talk to me when you been off the drugs for awhile…,"

"What's a while?"

"I don't know," She replied, _I think this might be the end us, but if he quits the drug…, _a month or two… I just came for the paintings Isaac."

"I love you," He tried to reach her, he could say that she might leave here in more ways than one, "you know that."

"Yes I do," That was the truth, but sometimes love was not enough and person you love could cause you the most pain. "that's why this is so hard." She lightly kissed his cheek. "But I need time, too."

He realized there really was not anymore he could say, not at that moment anyway, maybe when he could show her how much more important she was than drugs. He would not give up, even if she was already lost, he would find the love she had for him again. "The paintings are over there." He pointed towards the pile.

"Thank you," she said as she picked them up and walked away. She had a lot of things to sort through, because she thought that perhaps she just broke up with Isaac. That had not been her intention, nor had she meant to say things, but they were true. She had felt like the only one in the relationship for a long time. The problem now was, does she wait?

Or does she take a chance with Peter?

Isaac just stared at the scattered pieces of paintings after she left. He didn't know what to believe anymore. Could he see the future or not? He had fully believed himself the other day, believed in his ability, and then today he'd been sure he wasn't what he thought he was. Now…

He just didn't know.

He heard the doorbell buzz again and quickly made his way over to the door, thinking—hoping—it was Simone. Maybe she would make things better again. She always did. However, it wasn't Simone, but a man with horn rimmed glasses. Before he could speak, a sharp pain flooded his senses, and he knew nothing else.

* * *

Gabriel had been working on another watch, as always. Today was different though. Lately, everything had been different because of Claire…

_Claire_.

He had a friend—a real friend. Part of him was excited at the thought. He had someone, someone who was not his mother, who cared about him. Someone who asked how his week was going, how he was doing, what he thought about some things he might not even really care about. It was the thought that counted, wasn't it?

The other part was completely petrified. He'd never really had a friend before. What if she hurt him? What if she betrayed him?

…What if he hurt her?

The phone rang, interrupting his thoughts and making him realize he had stopped working on the watch. Setting his tools down, he walked over to answer the ringing contraption. "Hello, this is Grayson and Son."

"Gabriel Gray?" An anxious voice asked with hope.

"Yes?" The tone had made him a bit wary. "How may I help you?"

"My name is…Brian and you said you could help me." It took him a moment to remember. He had forgotten about his little call, about the list. His mind had been wrapped around Claire lately. When he had made the call to Brian, he had been desperate and was not even sure what he had wanted. All he knew was he wanted something, but now…he thought he might have found what it was.

So now, he floundered, not knowing how to respond to this man, who was clearly as desperate as he had previously been. "I…I…."

"Please! You got to help me?"

"I'm sorry," he answered. "I really can't. I thought…" He had not, obviously. Otherwise Brian would never even have heard from him.

"But you called me!" the voice countered with an anger fueled by fear.

"I know but I…" He felt guilty. He hated feeling guilty. His mother made him feel like that all the time and he was tired of it.

"If you weren't going to help, why did you call me? I need this to stop!"

His words pushed back the guilt a little, replacing it with curiosity. "Stop what?"

Brian faltered at the question. "I…I'm not even sure what it is called. I think it's telekineticsis?" Something inside the watch maker began to rise. He was not sure what it was, but it seemed to grow with his curiosity. It felt like need.

Like lust.

He pushed it away, his mind grasping at something to tell the distraught man. "There is a doctor who has been searching for people like you. You should get the book about evolution, written by Dr. Chandra Suresh." He spelled the name out for Brian, who he heard scrambled for a pen and paper. "It should help you understand what's happening to you. When you're ready, you should go see him."

"Do you know where he lives?" Brian asked breathlessly, giving Gabriel the impression of a thirsty man who just found water in the desert.

"Hayworth Apartments, I believe."

Brian's voice seemed to catch with anticipation. "Can you take me there?"

The thought made him flinch. "No," he replied and quickly hung up. He had no plans to ever see the doctor or E…Miss McCain ever again. The situation had not been pleasant and he was sure his presence would not be welcomed. He'd liked to avoid as many unpleasant situations as possible, especially when he had been in such a good mood. The conversation had been rather…unsettling.

He did not like that either.

* * *

Nathan straightened his tie as he stared at the mirror. He needed to be perfect—every little thing counted in his campaign and appearance was not a small thing. "Going back to the office?" Heidi had crossed her arms as she looked at him.

"Yes, I'm behind in the polls."

"You know the boys won't be too happy to see you miss another dinner with us."

"They'll understand when they are older," he stated confidently, but there was a shadow of sadness that hovered over his words. "I did."

Heidi sighed. "Nathan…" He stopped what he had been doing to focus his brown eyes on her, though his mind was still on his campaign. He had always been good at pretending to care.

"Something wrong, dear?"

"You don't think he could fly?"

Nathan resisted the urge to flinch and stalled for as long as he could. Though it wasn't often that this trait of hers manifested between them, Heidi could be like a dog with a bone, relentlessly pursuing a topic he had not wanted discussed. "What do you mean? People fly all the time on planes."

She sighed with annoyance, shooting him a knowing glare. "You know what I mean! Like without wings, people just fly, like Peter…"

He got down on his knees, leveling a steady look into her soft eyes. "Honey, Peter is ill and I'm going to try—"

"He looked perfectly fine to me," Heidi interrupted him.

Nathan returned the knowing look she had given him. "He believed he could _fly_, Heidi, and you even indulging in the idea is complete nonsense."

"Why? Because it has never happened before?"

"Yes!" he replied firmly as the frustration increased. "People can't fly without airplanes."

"The sun."

Nathan cocked his head back, confused at the sudden change in topic. "What?"

"The sun," Heidi repeated calmly. "It somehow manages to stay up in the sky and we perfectly are far away. It does not burn us."

He was still confused. "Heidi there is a scientific explanation for that," he replied exasperated.

"Not always."

Nathan decided to leave before things got any more confusing. "I don't understand why you are so insistent in getting me to believe, but I've got to go." He quickly stood, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

She watched him go and, even though she knew he wouldn't hear her, said, "Because I want you to believe in miracles. Because if you can," she gazed down at her useless legs, now simply a reminder of what she had lost—and she had lost more than just her ability to walk, but something much more—on that fateful night, "I will too."

* * *

"You're getting a new assignment."

Surprised, Eden glanced over at the man standing in the doorway. "And what's assignment is that?" She watched as he dragged a curly, long-haired man suffering some kind of withdrawal into the room.

"This man can see the future," the older man said. "You're going to help him do it without the drugs, because if you don't my daughter might die. I'll leave you alone and be back in few days when he is more coherent."

Eden didn't like this at all. "And where are you going? And what about Mohinder and his father?"

The man gave her a pressing look. "I imagine you can handle two jobs and I'm going out to do my job. Like I said, I'll be back to help you when I can."

* * *

Matt sighed in frustration as he made his way home, completely exhausted because one, Molly had awoken him and Janice in the middle of the night, and two, he had yet to find any leads. It hadn't helped that the chief wouldn't let him investigate too much into, something about it being an F.B.I. matter.

He opened door to be immediately greeted by a distraught Janice. "They took her!"

He pushed away a bit so he could look her straight in the eyes. "Who?" Even as he asked, he already knew the answer. Who else could it be?

"Molly, the F.B.I. took her in for questioning," she explained.

He sighed. It could have been worse. "They won't hurt her, Janice…"

"They took her and they'll probably throw the poor thing into foster home or give her to an estranged relative she doesn't know!"

Matt suddenly understood what she was thinking. "Janice, I—"

Janice pushed him suddenly, anger in her eyes. "You don't care about her, do you?"

Matt frowned. "Of course I do! I brought her home! But if the F.B.I. has her there isn't much I can do. They are above our jurisdiction."

His wife appeared to have given up—all the signs of defeat were written on her face—but he wasn't happy to see it. "Look, they'll probably need to question me, too. I'll see if I can find out what's going on."

"I'm sorry, I just…" She wrapped her arms around him. "She is just little girl and I guess I'm already attached. All I know is that if she is with us, I know she is safe."

"Yeah," Matt agreed, hugging her back. "I know."

* * *

As Gabriel made his way back into the shop, he didn't notice the van parked outside, nor did he catch the blonde woman laying her head against the passenger seat with a bored expression on her face.

"This is your assignment," the man beside her opened the door and stepped out with the blonde, who looked at a watch shop in silent disgust.

"You can't be serious." She scowled as she had whined, "this does not look like any fun!"

The man gave her a reprimanding glare. "This isn't supposed to be fun, Elle. This is a job, and yours is to make sure Gabriel does what he is meant to do." Noah really had not like Elle that much, because she was not easy person to control but Bob had assure him that she would not do anything to jeopardize the mission and Angela told him it had to be her.

"I can't believe you actually want me to force a guy to kill." She gazed inside the shop's window to see a man with slick-backed hair and black glasses. The idea of someone take another life had not bother her, she had done it several times and had taken pleasure. She was just surprised that people who claimed they were going to heal the world, wanted to let loose a killer and that someone who followed the rules with very little question was the one doing the asking. "Much less this loser."

"You are not going to turn him into a killer. You're just going to make sure he becomes one on his own. He is already meant to be a killer." The blonde's face twitched at his words. She hated that Angela and her cronies had to control everything, it pissed her off.

"Who are you to decide that?"

**

* * *

**

Author's Commentary:

So a combination of being sick, deep, painful, depression, lacking motivation, and a variant of other things thrown all together gives you slow updates.

Surprise? With what actually happened after the car scene? Everybody pretty much figure her power would popped up. Yay Elle has finally shown up!

Dragon Be Gone Scene: So anyone have little siblings or maybe your parents did it for you. When my sister was little she was afraid of monsters, so my dad made up something in spray bottle to make the monsters go away.


	8. Making and Mending Bonds

Author's Note: If there any major errors let me know

_**Be My Escape: **_

**Chapter Eight: **_**Mending and Making Bonds**_

Claire's mind had come to the brilliant conclusion that she should bring an offering of donuts to Gabriel; so naturally, Gabriel is surprised to found her standing in front of his door with a smile and a box in her hands. "You like donuts?" she inquired.

"My mother would never let me eat junk food," he replied, paused a few feet away from her.

Claire raised her eyebrows. "Hel-_lo_," she said, shaking the box lightly to emphasize her point, "_not_ junk food. Breakfast," she corrected. "I'll have you know it's one of the most important meals of the day."

"So people say," he replied in monotone as he stepped up to open the door, and then moved aside to let her in.

She rolls her eyes. "You're telling me you never had a donut, like, _ever_?" she asked as she set the box on the counter.

"Don't put them near the computer, I'm a bit tired of fixing it," he said as he flipped over the open sign.

"Gabriel, you're kidding me, right?" She moved them to the other the end of the counter and grabbed a sprinkled chocolate Bavarian cream-filled. "You never _ever_ had a donut?"

"No."

Claire nodded firmly. "Okay, you _have_ to try one," she picked one up and waved it in his face.

Gabriel wrinkled his nose. "You touched it," he complained.

"So?"

He looked pointedly at her. "I don't know where you hands have been."

She grabbed a napkin and picked up another. "Okay, this one has strawberry jelly. It's a fruit. Totally healthy."

He sighed. "You're not going to leave me alone until I try one, are you?"

"Nope," she replied with a cheeky smile, "now here." She shoved it in his hand and lifted it to his mouth. He stared at for a moment before biting down.

"Good, huh?" She watched as he ate it, ignoring the crumbs that fell on his chin. She grabbed another napkin and brought it up to his face. "I'll get that." His mother had done that for him all his life, and normally he would feel humiliated, but the emotions that rose in him as she gently wiped his face did not include embarrassment. He gently pushes her arm away.

"I am capable of cleaning my own face," he reminded her. Claire is staring at him with shock, surprised at what she had just done. She hadn't even thought about what she was doing, and now that she thought about it, she realized she had wanted a reason to touch him.

"I didn't mean it like that," she told him. "I just wanted to help."

Gabriel paused, an idea—ridiculous and inappropriate, but still incredibly tempting—struck him. "Yes, well, let me return the favor," he told her, picking up a napkin and brushing it against Claire's chin, where some of the cream had stuck to her skin.

Claire's heart began pounding faster in her chest. "Thanks," she croaked. Despite internally chastising himself, Gabriel smiled, unaware of the effect he had on her. He had to retreat, to think about this latest development, before he could face her again.

"I will be in the back and you can run the register again." Before Claire could even _think_ of something to say, Gabriel had disappeared behind the door.

"Okay," she murmured to an empty room.

* * *

Dr. Chandra Suresh searched his entire apartment for that vanilla folder. It was nowhere to be found. He supposed he shouldn't worry too much—most people would not be aware of what the list was for if they had found anyway—but it was still a list of private phones numbers and addresses. Most people wouldn't be too happy to know he had such a thing.

He stuffed the papers he had back into the drawer. He sighed, knowing he couldn't waste anymore time searching for it. His research needed him. His _daughter_ needed him to complete it.

He returned to his computer, going over the data once more. The changes he made just didn't seem to fit, and Mr. Gray's lack of ability didn't fit _period_. He should have had one, but right now he had none. His gaze went back to the notes that he'd made from Brian's claims. Now _he_ fit the original equation, which was _if_ his abilities were real. The man had sounded very distressed—perhaps he could be suffering from a delusion?—but Dr. Suresh would meet with him none-the-less, when he got the chance. For now, he only had about thirty minutes before going on another shift. He had been busy working for a taxi company, along with a couple of classes he taught at the university. Despite the fact that being a taxi driver wasn't a profession he was proud of, the truth was, teaching alone wasn't enough to cover his expenses, and he needed the money to meet with Brian.

Someone knocked on his door. "Come in, the door is open," he called, distractedly.

"I don't think leaving the door open is such a wise thing to do around this place, Father," Mohinder stated, stepping on a couple of cockroaches on his way in.

Chandra sighed tiredly. "If you come to try and talk me out of my research again—"

"No, Father," Mohinder replied. "As crazy as it sounds, I've come to help." At his father's surprised expression, Mohinder added, "I want to try to understand why this is so important to you."

"Well, than perhaps you can figure out what is wrong with my formula. I cannot seem to figure out."

"Oh," Mohinder made his way over and looked over his father's formula. "It seems fine," he said after a few minutes of perusal. "What seems to be the problem?"

"The problem is that Mr. Gray doesn't fit," Chandra said with no small frustration. "He does not have an ability."

Mohinder refrained from making the comment that _of course he wouldn't, people with abilities don't exist!_ Instead he said, "Father, all experiments have outliers."

"That's true, but he was my first test subject."

"But there is no way of telling where outlier may occur," Mohinder argued, "especially when human beings are involved. There are so many variables to account for."

"Yes, well, then perhaps there isn't anything wrong," Chandra mused. "I'm off to work for now, but you are welcome to stay here and look over my notes."

"I will," Mohinder told him.

"And if you find a vanilla folder containing a list of names and addresses, please let me know. Here is my cell phone number." With that, Dr. Suresh headed out the door to work.

Blinking a few moments at the quick and painless conversation, Mohinder turned back to the computer. "He is so much more compliant when you are not arguing with him," he remarked.

* * *

Matt stepped in FBI headquarters and made his way to the lady at the desk. "May I help you?" she asked with a small smile.

Smiling back, he replied, "Yes, I would like to inquire about a young girl in FBI custody. Her name's Molly Walker."

She pressed a button at her desk. "Hello sir, there is a Mr…"

"Parkman."

"Parkman," she continued, "wanting to know about a Miss Walker."

The phone suddenly rang, and she picked up the receiver. "Sir?" she questioned with a confused frown. "Yes. Uh-huh. I understand, sir." She put the phone down. "Miss Walker has been brought in for questioning, after which she will be given over to social workers."

"But she already has a place to stay," Matt informed her. "We already worked something out with social services."

The lady smiled apologetically at him. "I'm just telling you what they told me, Mr. Parkman," she reminded him.

"Just let me talk to her?" he pleaded. "Just to make sure she isn't scared."

"Look, sir," _I don't understand why he can't see her either, but protocol is protocol, _"I'm just relaying a message, that's all I know." _That and she is on floor 3, interrogation room 3. What a horrible place to keep a little girl. _

Matt faked a sigh. "I understand."

"Sorry," she apologized.

He walked out the door and got out sight. This thing, this power—whatever it was—was completely new to him, but if it was real, maybe he can use it to make sure Molly was okay. It was strange that the FBI was interested in a little girl, and instead of questioning her in an environment she was already familiar with, they dragged her away.

_Why? _

His instincts had told him something was up. Whether he liked it or not, that girl had become his responsible. He would use his power to find a way in, he just had to find the right person…

* * *

Peter was having difficulty sleeping. His mind had been surrounded with thoughts about Simone, and about the incident on the roof. He had known what happened.

Nathan had flown.

It hadn't seemed fair to him, because _Peter _was the one with the dreams and _Peter _the one that wanted to fly so badly, and instead, it had been _Nathan_—the brother who didn't believe such things was possible. How was it that his brother actually could do such an amazing thing and think that it completely impossible, yet Peter could not and was damn sure it was real?

He needed to clear his head, so he grabbed his coat, made his way downstairs and slipped in the back of a taxi. He leaned back. "Central park."

"Yes, sir," the driver replied. Peter detected an accent, and with a glance at the mirror to peek at the driver, he saw the Indian heritage on the other man's face. "Fifteen minutes."

"Yeah," Peter said, his stare moving to the window as he tried to collect his thoughts.

"May I inquire as to what is bothering you?" the driver asked suddenly.

Peter smiled ruefully. "Do you think it is possible for someone to have special abilities?"

He didn't notice the man's expression become first surprised, then speculative. "Of course, we are always evolving and as of now we only use ten percent of our brain. Imagine the possibilities if we used more."

Peter glanced up at the badge hanging up in the window. "Mr. Sueresh, is it?"

"Yes," Chandra confirmed. "I am a scientist. My particular interest is the evolution of human beings and the possible changes that occur. Have you read my book?"

Bewildered at the sudden turn of events, Peter stammered, "Uh, I don't think so. What's it called?"

"Activating Evolution."

Peter smiled. "I think I might look into it."

* * *

When he opened his eyes, Isaac didn't recognize his surroundings at first, but he did recognize a particular painting of a cheerleader. She was running away in darkness, trees illuminated by a street light. In the next panel was a man with glasses, the watchmaker who was right behind her, his face twisted in anger. The third panel was a boy on the ground, who appeared to be scurrying away in complete fear.

Somehow Isaac had felt as the picture was a complete misrepresentation of what was actually occurring. He could not remember most of his paintings due to the drugs, and so had no memory of what might actually be going on in the picture. Other than the picture, he had no recall of how he ended up on small cot with an uncomfortable plastic mattress in a plain gray room. Nor did he have any idea the identity of the woman sitting at his bedside, wiping his sweat off.

"How are you doing? I imagine not very well. I'm Eden by the way."

"Eden," he echoed distractedly, "where I am?" He pulled himself up and she helped him.

"Well I am afraid I can't tell you that, but you are safe."

"I don't know you, how can possibly believe that."

"Hey you don't have to but it is lot better than not right?"

He stared at her for a moment, "Do you at least know why I am here?"

She pointed to the picture, "We need you to paint for us some more, we do find out more about that image."

"I can't, not without the drugs,"

"You are going to have to," She replied, "You don't want your drugs."

"No I don't want my drugs I will do it without them," he sounded somewhat in a trance.

"Good, I'll get you some supplies," She said as she walked out the door.

"Wait!" It was too late she was already out the door.

"How long am I going to be stuck here?" He asked anyway, "What if I can't paint? What are you going to do with me than?"

* * *

Ando was annoyed. Of all the places they could end up in, Hiro put them smack dab in the middle of nowhere. It was extremely irritating—they could've ended up in Vegas; or more specifically, that hot blonde's place. Ando could've finally seen her in person! But _no_… They had to appear in front of a cutesy diner with a name that didn't seem very flattering. The _Burnt Toast_. If people in America thought that was a great name, well…

He'll never understand Americans.

"I do not understand," Hiro stated, his face scrunching up. "Why did my powers take me here?" He stepped back to observe the small diner. "I should have appeared in New York," he muttered to himself. It mystified him, what could he possibly do here in this tiny town? Hiro had an unshakeable belief in the concept of Destiny, and he could understand that this unlikely place had something to do with it. But how was he going to save New York from _here_? What was in here that was so important?

"I don't know," Ando replied, "but let's try going somewhere else. Maybe if you focus harder, we can go to Vegas."

Hiro pulled back his shoulders and held his head high. "No," he said firmly. "I will follow the path Destiny has prepared for me." He marched to the door and pulled it open, stepping into the diner.

"Hello," one of the waitresses—an elderly lady—greeted in a southern accent. Her eyes took in their foreign looks. "What brings you folks here?" she asked.

"Destiny," Hiro answered. Ando rolled his eyes as the lady stared at him confused.

"Glad that destiny has brought you here." Both Hiro and Ando started upon hearing the soft voice that had spoken in Japanese. Turning, they found a petite redhead giving them a polite smile.

Hiro smiled back widely, thrilled that he didn't have to bumble through the difficult English language. "You know Japanese?" he asked. He could not believe his luck, finding someone in this place that understood him.

"Yes, I read it in book a while ago," she replied with her sweet smile as if it was no big deal, but Hiro was surprised because had been tried to learn English for years and was still having difficulties in the basics of it.

He bowed in greeting, remembering his manners. "You must be very smart," he praised, not noticing the other woman walk away.

She tilted her head a little embarrassed. "No not really, I just remember everything I read. Something I able to do recently, it is little odd but comes in really handy you know starting conversations with the folks who come here."

Hiro suddenly understood that Destiny had brought him here because of this young woman. "Ah you have a gift," he announced happily.

"I suppose so," she agreed reluctantly.

"Yes, so do I." Hiro's excitement took over and he ended up knocking over the salt. Charlie giggled a little bit, and for some reason he felt so warm inside. "Sorry," he apologized.

"It's fine," she assured him, "no harm done." She put the salt back into its proper place.

"Do you folks want something to eat?"

"We don't have American money," Ando stated in English, who had observed the situation in great annoyance. He hoped that Hiro would use his powers soon, but the man believed it was destiny. Ando always thought his destiny was to marry Hiro's sister, but that wasn't happening, so really, was there such a thing as fate?

"Oh, well don't worry. It's on the house," the redhead replied, surprising the two Japanese men, who bowed politely in response.

"You are most kind."

"We're all kinda like that here, you know…being in a small town and all. So what did you want?"

"Waffles!" Hiro said excitedly. Ando rolled his eyes.

* * *

When business started to slow down again, Claire made her way to the back. "So," she began, leaning against the doorframe.

Gabriel glanced up at her briefly. "Yes? I _am_ working here," he pointed out.

"We both know what I am going to inquire," she said, slightly pouting when he didn't put his attention on her.

"Oh?" He replaced the face of the watch carefully; his hands steady as he worked.

"Please!" She approached him quickly, making him stop what he was doing in fear of disorganizing his work. She clasped her hands together and slightly bent her knee and mock begged. "Please, help me with my math."

Gabriel sighed, pulling off the eye piece on his head. "I see you kept your promise."

Claire shrugged. "Well, now you know I'm reliable."

"As well as annoyingly persistent," he added.

An unrepentant grin broke out on her face. "Yeah, well, what can I say? It helps me get what I want," she added cheekily.

Gabriel was unable to hide the amusement in his eyes. "Yes, I have noticed that."

Claire smiled wider. "So does that mean you'll do it?"

He rolled his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I did _not_ say that. Besides I've never tutored anyone before."

"So, if you don't try, you don't succeed."

He shook his head. "I don't really care if I succeed at or not at tutoring, Claire."

"Yes, but you care if I do well or not, don't you?" she asked. "So you should try so I can succeed."

He rolled his eyes again. "Claire, I don't have much education beyond high school. I only went to college for a month."

"Still more than me," she pointed out. "That makes you totally perfect for teaching me."

"I don't think so," Gabriel said, putting on the eyepiece and turning back to the nearly finished watch. "We have work to do."

Claire huffed quietly, frustrated with him. "I totally can't fail math!" she cried. "I'll be taken off the cheerleading team!"

Gabriel sighed. "Surely there is someone else you can ask?"

Claire shook her head fervently. "No. Come on, I'll get to spend more time with you here."

"And that is supposed to be a convincing reason for me to tutor you?"

"Yes!" She narrowed her eyes, a though occurring to her. "Should I try getting hit by a car again?"

Gabriel's mood fell flat. "Don't joke about that."

Claire shivered at his tone. "Relax, okay? I'm not going to. I'll just use my other power of persuasion."

Despite himself, Gabriel was unable to resist asking. "Which is?"

Claire smiled wickedly. "Begging," she said, falling to her knees. "Please, please, please!" She put her hands together and pouted lightly. Of course, she was totally faking it, knowing it was only a matter of time before he gave in. She was _so_ going to win this.

Gabriel was going down.

"Please, please, please, please, please!"

Gabriel huffed moodily, her pleading grating on his nerves. "You're not going to leave me alone until I say yes, are you?"

She paused mid-'please'. "You know I won't."

He almost smiled. "Fine."

Claire squealed, leaping onto her feet to hug him. His eyes widened at the sudden contact. "Thank you!" she cried and then realized she had been hugging him. Releasing him quickly, she didn't bother hiding her blush. "Sorry, I guess you're not okay with the hugging thing."

"It's…all right," he replied. The only people he remembered hugging him who weren't his mother were old ladies and various family members who only made a brief appearances in his life. "I was just a little surprised."

"Okay…" she muttered, glancing out the small window. Spotting a familiar car, she said, "Hey, I think that's my mom. I guess I'll see you later."

Gabriel nodded, already turning back to the watch on his bench. "Drive safe."

"Thanks," Claire said with a warm smile as she strode out the door. Pausing as a thought occurred to her, she yelled back, "Oh, you'll have to meet my teacher, by the way! Bye!" Gabriel's attention was off the watch instantly.

"Wait, what?"

* * *

When the door opened, interrupting the conversation he'd been having, Nathan was ready to snap at the moronic worker who didn't have the courtesy to knock. But instead of a moronic worker, he was surprised to recognize his own brother striding into his office. "Pete, what are doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you," Peter said firmly. He came for an answer and he was going to get it.

"Pete, I'm kind of busy," Nathan said as he was handed the latest poll results.

"This is important," Peter insisted.

"So is this Pete," Nathan sighed.

Peter's lips thinned. "Nathan, this is important to me. Can't you listen to me for one minute?" he pleaded.

Nathan nodded. "I'm listening."

"Tell me what really happened on the roof."

Nathan stilled visibly. "I told you, all I know is that you tried to commit suicide."

"Nathan, I know that's not what I did. I remember what happened. _You_ were the one that flew."

Nathan turned to him completely, surprising Peter as his brother put his hands on his shoulders. "Pete, stop talking nonsense. You know what? You need another job."

"I _have_ a job," Peter said with a frown. "A good job."

"Yeah, but it doesn't pay much does it. Why don't you come work with me?" Nathan told him, but Peter heard the undertone of patronization in his brother's voice and it stroked his anger.

"I doubt having your suicidal brother on board would help your campaign," he snarled.

Nathan's face fell. "Oh come on, Pete, don't be like that—" But Peter had had enough.

"I gotta go," he said, turning on his heel and pushing past the various interns moving around the large room. Nathan watched him leave with a heavy heart and a tired expression on his face.

* * *

Hiro had studied the comic book over and over, looking for clues where to go next. There wasn't much there. So far, all he'd concluded was that the bad man Hiro had met was not going to be the one to blow the world. That there were others with powers like his—a senator, a cheerleader, a hospice nurse, a watchmaker, and an array of unlikely people to ever meet each other—were somehow connected to each other. He had yet to figure out what that connection could be, but there was one…it was all part of his destiny.

Ando sighed out of frustration as he watched Hiro flip through the thin stack of sheets again. He leaned close, "Hiro, why don't you use your power and take us home."

"No, they brought us here for a reason and must discover what that is," he replied as he pushed his glasses up.

"Don't be stupid, you just ended up here, because you don't know how to control your powers yet."

"Boys," an elder and sweet voice called, "Did you figure out what you going to do?" She her hand on her hips and a big old smile on her face as she asked. "How did you boys end up here anyway?"

"It was destiny!" Hiro exclaimed which caused his companions eyes to roll. "There is a reason and we will stay here." He slammed his hand down, and quickly pulled it away when he realized his stupidity as the pain ran up his hand.

"Well, boys do you even have a place to stay?"

The once confident new hero's head fell into a position of defeat, "No,"

"Well," that sweet young southern voice came to his rescue, "Then I guess you can stay with me and Rick could use some help with heavy lifting couldn't he?" The older woman shook her head at Charlie's bright smile.

"Yes, he could," The redhead grinned brighter and jumped with glee.

"Well then guess you boys can stay with me for awhile. I just got a couple things to take care of first," She then quickly disappeared and Hiro found himself with a feeling wrapped in excitement and nervousness.

"Boys," they both looked up at now serious big woman, "Our Charlie has a got heart of gold…." Ando gulped because felt some scary thing were coming by the way that woman was looking at them. What trouble had his friend gotten them into? "People sometimes take advantage of that, I'll let you know either of you thinking of doing such a thing will see why Southern women are never scorned." Ando was frightened but Hiro just bowed his head and folded his hands. Though the older waitress had no clue what he had said she was strongly satisfied by his words.

"We will not bring dishonor to such a wonderful woman."

"Good,"

* * *

Madeline had already known where Gabriel worked and where he lived and that he sometimes went to that comic book store on the corner. She knew everything about him.

She had to.

She made her way inside the shop, holding a piece of paper in her hand and pretending she didn't already know all she could about him. "Mr. Gray?"

Gabriel looked over, setting down the antique wooden clock he'd been fixing. "May I help you?" he asked, leaning over. His eyes found her wristwatch and he watched as it ticked a few moments late. "Your watch is broken…and also a rare piece."

"Yes, it is and I'm not here to have it fixed either. I have it for sentimental reasons," she replied.

"I'll have no problem replacing the cover and…" _He really does have his power. He is obsessing over the watch even though I already said it didn't need fixing, and he is already trying to figure out what is wrong with it._

"Mr. Gray, the break is more important to me than the actual watch." Her mind flashed back on an old memory: _"I'm sorry, mommy. It was an accident. I just wanted to show Janie and…"She had been looking at her own brown eyes that day. _

"_Oh God," She fell down to her knees and wrapped her arms around him, "Forget, the watch baby, don't ever run out like that on me again. I didn't know where you were!"_

"I see, what have you come to see me for then?" He hoped she wasn't there to tell him something like Dr. Suresh had.

"You know a student of mine. Claire Bennet."

"Yes, I know Claire." _He's calling her by her first name. This is good. _

"Well, she told me that you are going to tutor her," she smiled politely.

Gabriel did not know why, but he felt as he seen that smile somewhere before. And her voice he heard it once before, but from where? _What are doing? _The voices screamed out in his head and sounded severely desperate. He shook his head.

"Are you alright?" She tilted her head, her brown eyes searched his face for signs of distress.

"Yes, I'm fine… I'm going to try to tutor her, yes."

"Well, good, I'm sure you will do fine," She seemed so confident in what she said. "I just wanted to discuss a few things with you, like what you might focus on and see what your plans were."

"She only asked me a few days ago. I haven't quite figured everything out."

"That's actually great because now I can help give you a starting point. If that's alright."

"I don't see a problem with that," he assured her, relieved that he didn't have to go searching for material randomly.

"Good," she smiled again, and Gabriel was _sure _he'd seen that smile somewhere before, _sure _he already knew her. He simply couldn't put his finger on it, and he supposed that if she had remembered him, she would have said something. Maybe he'd met her in college? Had she been a professor or an older student there? If so, it didn't surprise him that she forgot about him. Most people probably did not give him much thought. What did it matter if he knew her? But still, he felt as though she had been important to him.

They discussed some topics for several minutes on what Claire had to work on and she was very helpful on giving him tips on how to tutor Claire. They finished soon enough. "Well then, just write down the hours on when you and Claire work with your signature and have her bring it to me, and that will be it." She held out her hand and he quickly shook it. It felt so familiar to him. "I'm sure you'll be a big help."

"I'm not certain of that, but I'm willing to try."

"I have faith that you will succeed, G…Mr. Gray." She shot him another smile as she walked out the door. Madeline took a deep breath before heading to her car. She almost slipped up, although she fixed that one quickly, but still…it was probably best that she didn't make any more contact for a while, no matter how badly she wanted to. She fiddled with her watch. "I promise, baby. I won't fail this time. Never again."

* * *

"So we'll go to my house, work on the project, make this as painless as possible," Claire proposed, glancing at her companion.

"My thoughts exactly," Zach agreed as he gripped his book bag.

When they arrived, Claire's mom was surprised to see him. "Zach!" Sandra exclaimed. "I haven't seen you in a while."

Zach felt awkward, not wanting to hurt her feelings. "Oh yeah, I've been busy," he replied. How do you tell somebody's mom that their daughter just decided they weren't good for her reputation?

Sandra gave him a warm smile. "So are you staying for dinner?" she asked.

"No, Mom, we're here just to work on a project," Claire told her.

"Well, you are welcome to stay," Sandra assured him.

"Well, my mom's expecting to come home right after," Zach excused.

"Alright," Sandra smiled, but there was no ignoring her disappointment. "Maybe some other time then."

"Yeah maybe," he said politely, even though he knew that wasn't going to happen.

"Uh…" Claire could feel the air of awkwardness all around here and she wanted to get out of it _quick_. "We're just gonna be working in the living room, Mom."

"Alright, I'll be in the kitchen working on supper," Sandra replied and, with another smile at him, she disappeared into the other room. Claire led Zach into the living room and dropped her bag onto the floor. "Okay…" They both sat down, "so, uh, what do you think we should do our project on?"

"I don't know, I was kind of thinking," he pulled out his laptop, "maybe we could do some kind of video and you could write a script. We could like, do our own version of the Salem Witch Trials. But not like, serious trials or anything. Something funny or interesting instead."

"Okay, but won't we need more actors?" Claire asked.

"No, no," Zach answered, "we can act all the parts ourselves." He shot her a grin. "The benefits of editing."

"All right," Claire nodded."So what do you think we should do in the trials?"

"I don't know," Zach shrugged. "I haven't thought that far yet. You wanna do something ridiculous like accuse someone of double dipping or something?"

"No, we should do something like someone wore the wrong outfit to a party. You could dress like a girl," she teased.

"No way, any girl parts are yours, but I do think you maybe onto something about a crime of fashion."

Clarie suddenly became excited. "We should call it a crime of Passion against Fashion."

"Yeah, that actually sounds good," Zach agreed. "So we should like, outline a script."

"Okay," Claire said, "So we will need the fashion police, maybe a reporter…"

"We could do the whole video like it's a report," Zach nodded, "I'll be the reporter then."

"Okay, so what should the crime of passion be?"

"Well, a crime of passion is usual something to do with like, love or something…" Zach trailed off uneasily.

"Oh," Claire said. "Um, so maybe uh, someone passionate about fashion kills someone?" Zach stared at her blankly, wondering where she got that idea, and shook his head.

This project was doomed.

* * *

Angela stared at a letter in her hand. There was no way it could be her. This woman was dead, killed by her own husband!

But as she stared down at the hand writing, it was impossible to ignore. The curves of each letter intertwined with the other and had been gracefully put on paper by the dance of the pen. The thickness, the width, the length of each letter written that could only be written by _her_**, **the paper it was written on was the same kind of stationary she always used…

Of course most of this could be explained. It was highly probably that someone else could write in the same style and use the same stationary, but the thing that made even Angela's brown eyes widened slightly were the words itself. There was only one person who had that kind of write style and would use those particular phrases. Just one person that Angela had known and once upon time of given her life to, but that person was dead, so it couldn't be her…

She read the letter again.

_Dear Lala, _

The name used, only one woman had ever called by that name, the truest friend she had when she had gone to college, Amanda Hillson. She had been known as Amanda Gray for the last forty years or so, but Angela had always known her as Mandy. The name Lala—people would probably laugh to known she had such a nickname—had come from when Angela refused to join to Choir with her.

"_**Come on! It'll be fun!" Mandy insisted with a grin. **_

"_**Choir is waste of time. I need to focus on my studies and the preparations for the wedding," she replied monotonously as they walked to their next class. **_

"_**Oh come, Angela! There's more to life than weddings and books! It's just choir! It's not as if I'm asking you to go down town and hook up with some strange man." **_

"_**It is no less a waste of time." **_

_**She rolled her eyes. "What is so bad about singing? It'll be good for you! And you might like it." A wide, mischievous grin spread her lips. "We might have to call you lala just to get your attention." **_

"_**Don't be ridiculous," she bristled indignantly.**_

_**"But it's such a perfect name, Angela-la-la," Mandy teased.**_

_**A pinched expression seized her face. "You are not to call me by such name again!" Angela demanded.**_

"_**Lala, lala!" She danced around in front of her, laughing at Angela's twitching eye. "Lala!" **_

Angela could still hear laughter in her ears. She went back to reading the letter.

_We have not spoken in such a long time have we? I suppose death has that effect on friendships. Though, I believe your betrayal was probably the fork in my grave. _She refused to think about that memory, Mandy had been her only friend and Angela herself had cut the strings. _But I am not here to dwell on such things of the past. They are only memories that make us who we are, not who we will be._

It was always something she had said whenever one of their friends was worried about something in the past ruining their new reputations. Reputations had always seemed so important to her, but not to Mandy. _**"If I live my life by what everyone else wants I'll never be happy." **_Angela saw the truth in those words—the days she was happy were few and far in between. She had a life of meaning, but enjoyment was hard to find.

_I've written to you as a warning, to a once-upon-a-time friend. I _am_ going to interfere with your plans. I have not cared for a long time what you do, because my only concern was my child. I won't let you hurt him. As usual, you think you know best, but I have gained quite an extraordinary ability—something much clearer than dreams. I know you are surprised. Me with an ability? You know I never had one before. _

She _had_ been surprised, Mandy had always loved Angela's gift never made her feel different normal, but she had wanted one herself, secretly. She tried to hide it but the desire was always there.

_**Mandy looked up at the stars, a hand on her swollen belly. "There is so much more you and he will be able to do then me." She gazed downward. "But I can do this. I know I can." **_

"_**Of course you can. You'll make a wonderful mother," Angela said, gently patting her on the back. "You should know, sometimes these gifts carry a curse as well. I wish I didn't see the things that I do all the time." **_

"_**I know, but there is so much you have to do." **_

It was a sad fact that Amanda Gray had been on the other end of her own husband's cursed gift. The horror of her death still haunted Angela. She had seen her best friend's death—it was part of the plan, after all—so she held onto the belief that her friend's death was great sacrifice. And yet… She held the letter close.

_I wish I could have spared my son a lot of pain. It took me years to get back here. I won't explain how, and I don't have to explain why. I'm back, and I won't let you destroy his life. I don't care about your plans. I only care about him. I know you understand—I believe you would sacrifice anything for your sons, especially Peter. _

_You didn't think I knew, did you? It was obvious you always pretended to favor Nathan, but it is written on your face every time you look at Peter. You knew he would do great things, so you sacrificed your relationship with your youngest son, believing that it was what had to be done for him to become the man he was meant to be._

_I won't lie. He _has_ become great, but I believe he would have become so, regardless of whether you showed your love or not. He has a big heart, and it was only meant to grow bigger. I understand why you did the things you did. You believed it was either Peter's life or Gabriel's. I believe I can save them both. Let us see who can make checkmate._

_With Understanding and No Less Love, _

_Mandy Gray _

Angela could even smell the sweet perfume that she always wore. Somehow, someway, it seemed that Amanda Gray had risen from the grave and was going to interfere with everything they done. After all the sacrifices that were made, the friendship Angela destroyed, the life she allowed to be taken, she still would not let her friend have what she desired. She would have to carry yet another burden. Her friendship with Mandy always fell just underneath the importance of the company's mission and her family.

* * *

Zach was making notes in his laptop while Claire went to get snacks. She brought a tray of pizza rolls and sat it down. "You want a soda or something?"

"What do you got?"

"Code red, Mtn. Dew, Pepsi, and Diet Pepsi."

"Mountain Dew," he answered as he scrolled down a website for pictures.

She came back with the sodas and sat next to him. "So what are you working on?"

"I was looking for some effects to maybe add to the video, and scrolling for some ideas."

"Yeah, well, we already have the basic idea. I was wondering if I should wear something completely horrendous or something that looks good and has a small thing wrong with it."

"The small thing," Zach decided, not even looking up from the screen. "We want the accuser to seem ridiculous."

"Yeah, but is it going to be enough for two people?" Claire wondered. "Don't we need someone else to be the accuser?"

"Yeah, well, that's why I was looking for some clips. I figured we could do that," he said, pointing to an image of blond girl screaming and saying, "_That is so wrong!_"

Claire giggled. "Yeah, that is funny. So should we have the same girl or several different…" There was a thump.

"What was that?" Zach wondered.

"Something probably just fell," Claire replied, not worried at all. "I'll go make sure nothing expensive broke real quick."

"Maybe I should go with?" Zach said, already standing up.

"Oh, how sweet want to keep the monsters from attacking me," Claire teased.

"Nah." He pulled out his camera. "I just want to record it."

Claire rolled his eyes and made her way upstairs.

* * *

Peter arrived at the hospital a few minutes early and made his way up the stairs. He would be picking up a woman name Irene whose family, while not in possession of the same fortune as Simone's father, basically paid him to keep her out their hair. He hated families like that. He'd never do that to his mother.

On the elevator, he pressed the button for the third floor. Next to him was a pretty blonde with files in her hand and earphones in her ears. Her nametag read Emma. He nodded her way, but she hadn't noticed as she headed out the doors. After that, it was a matter of seconds before he arrived on the third floor.

He made his way to the nurse's station and gave a warm smile. "I'm here to pick up a patient Irene Wilson."

"Let's see here," the nurse's blue eyes traveled down the screen. "Yes, are you Mr. Petrelli?"

"Yeah," he nodded, offering a folder to her, "and here's all the paperwork."

She quickly glanced through it. "Seems all right. Wait here a moment. I'll have a nurse bring her out." She picked up the phone and paged someone. A few moments later, a man was pushing an elderly lady with the brightest grin Peter had ever seen.

Peter smiled back. "Hello Mrs. Wilson. I'm here to pick you up. My name is Peter Petrelli." He held his out and her frail fingers grasped it.

"It is a delight to meet you, young Peter."

"The pleasure is mine. Are you ready to get out of here?" he asked.

"Oh yes, I can't wait to get home, though I'll miss being surrounded by Angels."

"Angels?" he questioned.

The male nurse leaned in his ear. "She thinks she could see them. We tried giving medication, but it just makes her sick, and she hasn't done anything harmful, so we just kind of ignore it." Peter nodded in agreement and begun to push her out.

"You know just because I'm old woman does not mean I'm senile. I know that people don't think I see them but I do. Some of them are very sad."

Peter obliged her. "Why is that?"

"They cannot go back home for some reason. Well…not usually," she amended.

Peter opened up the car door and helped her in. "What do you mean 'not usually'?"

"Well, there was this one beautiful angel who was very sad because she be with her son, I'll she could do was watch him from a very but now…somehow she found away to be among the living again."

Peter stopped what he was doing, intrigued. "What, are you talking about ghosts?" Remembering himself, Peter buckled himself up and turned on the car.

"I suppose that's what some would say, but I felt like they were always watching over us like Angels. That is all most of them can do. This one, though, found a way to…I guess it is called possession."

Peter might have thought she was crazy, but if he believed he could fly, maybe she could see the dead.

But someone taking over a body?

* * *

Matt had managed to get into the interrogation room, but not exactly the way he planned. A blonde woman had brought him here with the persuasion of a gun. He was now being questioned and accused and he didn't like it one bit.

"Tell me how you found the girl?" Aubrey asked, planting her hands on the table as she glared at him. _He has got to be part of the company._

"I told you, I heard her and found her under the steps of her house." He wondered what the company was, but decided to keep quiet about it for now.

"There is no way you could have heard her unless she was screaming," she insisted. _He had to know where she was, he had to have been the one to hide her, but…the little girl was so happy to see him. Why would she be happy to see her captor?_

"Well maybe she was," Matt sighed. "Look, all that passed like a blur! I can't be sure _how_ I found her. I just _did._"

She tossed the statement he had given at the station in front of him. "When the other officers saw her she barely spoke a word, and you said she was hiding.  
If she was hiding, why would she be screaming?"

"So someone could find her," he replied, the silent 'duh' not going unnoticed by the already irate cop.

"She didn't know that the bad men had gone away yet."

"Maybe she knew the women were gone because she could not hear them anymore."

"And how did you know that the captors were women?" _I think we may have another case involving the secret company again._

"Who is the secret company?" Matt finally demanded, unable to stop his curiosity.

Aubrey looked alarmed. "Where did you hear that name?"

"You just told me," Matt said.

"I didn't say anything." _This guy has been trying to make detective… Maybe he made a deal with the company…_

"I don't know who the company is," Matt insisted.

"How did you know the name then? And that they were women?" Aubrey leaned down again, glaring at him. "I think you were working for them. Got a little frustrated that you weren't making detective, or maybe money was tight. So you help them catch these people and offered to keep the cops off their tracks."

Matt gaped incredulously at her. "That's the most ridiculous thing I ever heard."

Aubrey ignored him, continuing her theory. "You got a guilty conscience so you hid the girl and made yourself look like a hero."

"No, I found her under the stairs!" Matt cried.

"If you don't start talking I'm going to have you arrested in accessory to kidnapping,"Aubrey threatened.

Fed up, Matt threw his hands in the air. "Fine, you want the truth? The truth is I can read thoughts. I don't know how or why but I can."

_This guy is wack job_, Aubrey thought, wrinkling her nose with disbelief.

Matt smirked, an idea gripping him. "Okay, think of a number 1 between a million."

_I can't believe this…_"Fine," Aubrey sighed. _1979. The year I was born._

"1979," he repeated, "that was year you were born."

_How did he…_

"I told you I don't know how," Matt reminded her.

Aubrey shook her head. "Okay, so that's a nifty trick, but there is no way you can read minds."

Matt rolled his eyes. "Fine. Think of somebody nobody else knows about you and that cannot be found on the Internet."

She rolled her eyes, "Fine, you want to play this game, let's." She closed her eyes trudging through strings of thoughts looking for a specific memory. _I know I'm going to be a laughing stock now. This is so stupid, the guys here don't take me seriously enough about the company. They all think this assignment is just were the bosses send the people they don't how to deal with, but I know the company exists, I do. Uh, what about no way, do I want anyone to know about that. Too late, if he can really read my mind. _She focused on the memory.

Matt's face fell at her selection. "So…you got drunk and slept with the basketball star and you were pissed he didn't remember_."_ She blushed and her glare turned harsher. "Hey, not judging here, I've done worse. And I know how it feels to feel like everyone is laughing at you."

_Jesus, he really _can_ read minds… _"Alright," she replied, "let's test this thing out. I don't care if you really can read minds or not, but you might actually have something I could use."

Matt waited to see what she was going to say.

"How would you like to work for the F.B.I.?"

* * *

Elle briefly wondered if that bastard Noah had known it was going to rain or had some post-human make it rain, along with causing her car to break down. It all seemed like a little tooe much, but Noah insisted that they needed to see the extent of his abilities. How could they see it when they had no fucking clue what it was?

Of course, Angela told them so, blah, blah, and yeah Elle needed to look pathetic so she could play the damsel in distress. Ha! _Her_, a damsel in distress? Daddy had made sure she was anything but that. Her life kind of sucked, being locked away like Rapunzel in a tower and only let out to kill. It kind of messes with your head a bit, but Elle was no damsel in distress. She sure could play it, though.

"Damn," she yelled loudly. "My car won't run!" She turned around to see the shop. "Oh, perhaps there is someone inside who can help me."

Okay, so maybe she was overdoing it just a bit, but whatever.

She opened up the door to see Mr. Gray and thought that he doesn't look so bad close up. _He's actually kind of cute_. "Excuse me," her voice was laced with distress, hair was clinging wetly to her face. "I'm so sorry, but my car," she pointed outward, "just broke down. Can you help me?"

Gabriel stared at her for a moment. She was pretty, more petite and lean then Claire, but still quite nice to look at. This would be one of the few times a girl like her would talk to him. No. He had enough stresses in his life with Claire around, he didn't need another. "I'll call a tow truck if you like." He picked up the phone.

Elle thought fast. They needed to see him at work. She put on hand on the telephone and sent a current frying the phone.

"That would be nice," she nodded innocently.

"Ow," Gabriel exclaimed after a slight shock hit his fingers. "It seems my phone has been put out of commission." He mused about it for a moment. "I'll just take a quick look."

"Oh, that would be so nice," she clasped her hands together in a gesture of gratitude. He nodded a bit stiffly and she briefly thought he was a strange. He made his way to the car and immediately somehow he just understood what was wrong.

"Hmm, I think I can fix this. Let me get some tools from the shop," he glanced at her again. It was rather impolite to leave a lady out in the rain. "You should come in and stay for awhile. I'll fix your car."

"Uh thanks." She was surprised by his sincerity, and she had meant her thanks. Before she realized it, her act had faded away and everything she had supposed to be pretending at would become real. Had she known she was going to fall in love, perhaps she would have stayed inside the facility she had been raised in.

* * *

Claire found Jackie standing in her room. "What are you doing here Jackie? And why are using my window," Claire glared at her.

"Getting the _Freak_." Jackie held up a disk. "Now, you are going to put this in his laptop and it will totally crash."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you know how much that freak likes his laptop!"

"What's that got to do with anything?"

Jackie glared at her, annoyed at all the questions. "It'll show him not to mess with us."

Claire glared back, sick of Jackie's know-it-all, I'm-the-boss attitude. "I'm not going to do and you can't make me." Claire walked out the door, ready to return to the living room, but Jackie grasped her arm.

"Have you _forgotten_ who your friends are?" Jackie hissed, eyes glinting almost manically.

"Yeah, I did," Claire agreed, thinking about how she let go of Zach to be friends with Jackie, and her relationship with Gabriel. She snatched the disk from Jackie's hand and smashed it.

"You bitch!" Jackie yelled, shoving her angrily. Claire's heart jumped wildly as she found herself falling down the stairs.

"Claire, are you…" Zach came into view as Claire landed on the bottom step. Jackie had quickly snuck back out the window, absolutely horrified at the sight of her friend rolling down the stairs. Zach quickly ran to her aid, only to see her neck in odd position. Her body was lifeless, but only for second. He watched as her neck began to untwist into the right place.

"What the...?" Zach stared at her.

"Ow…" Claire groaned, then stared at him, looking completely panicked as she remembered falling. "I… What—?" Zach cut her off.

"You know, it maybe because I'm a freak, but that was kind of cool."

* * *

**Author's Commentary:** So anyone figured out who the mysterious woman is? I think you can figure it out.

Yeah the whole ghost thing might be a little weird, but then again this heroes, but if it helps I love Ghost Whisperer, so that's where the idea came from. So yeah…I'm trying for monthly updates, so here is this month, I'll starting working on the other one soon.


	9. Developments

**Be My Escape Nine: **

**Author's Note: I'm back, sorry for the late update, I'm just having trouble writing...anything but I'm going now. Please point out errors I'll fix them, I'm betaless for now.**

"What?" She was still in shock, "What I did is totally not normal Zach, I'm...a...,"

"A freak, so?" He shrugged his shoulders.

"Why aren't you freaked out about this?"

"Because… I don't know…because I thought you were seriously hurt, and it just makes sense to be more relieved that you are okay then freaked out that you are not."

"Ok—ay, I...," She thought for a second what he said made sense but still…she should be dead.

"Claire, you need to relax."

"I just..." She felt like she was falling.

"Sit down," He commanded as he pulled out one of the Kitchen table chairs.

"Now, breath,"

Zach stares at her, and Claire is in complete disbelief. "I...just..." She looked at her hand it was completely healed, no broken bones or anything.

"It is okay, so you're a freak, whatever been one my whole life I'm actually less miserable than you."

"I'm not miserable,"

"Jackie is your best friend and she almost killed you. What is there to be miserable to be about?" Sarcasm was obviously laced in that statement

"Okay, I get your point, but now I'm a freak on top of it,"

"Yep,"

* * *

"Are you trying to fatting me up?" Mohinder asked as he took another bite. Eden had come over quite frequently to his father's apartment to fed them…well his father was often at work when she had arrived.

"Yes," Eden replied, "I will make you so fat that you can't go on airplane and will be force to stay here with m…your father," She corrected herself quickly. _Damn it, I'm falling for this guy and he has probably got a whole life at home, but it is part of my job if he falls for me he won't leave. Who cares if I happened to enjoy it too?_

"I don't know, I have rather high metabolism,"

"Well, can't blame a girl for trying," She stuck a fork in her dish, "Are you going anytime soon?"

"No, I have taken your advice into consideration and have decided to stay for awhile. I'm considering work."

"Well, if you want," Eden's fork had danced on her plate, "I might know a place you could work at, it is an office job but it is in one of the most prominate industries in medical and scientific study, Winnburg,"

"I believe I have heard of that company they developed new flu vaccine."

"Yes, I think so. I don't know much about science, but I do have a friend that works there and I thought it might be a better fit…"

"Than driving a taxi," He filled in for her. He really had not approved of his father's choice of job, but as his degree was worth nothing in America, so what much more could his father do.

"Yeah, I worry about your father, sometimes people are crazy."

"I do as well, but he won't quit, just like he won't quit his research until he is satisfied that his conclusions are false."

"Yeah, your father is stubborn. I think I mentioned that before."

"I believe more than once. Can I inquire something?"

"Yes," She felt herself getting close even though her body had not moved as his eyes looked right into hers.

"I was curious as to what you do besides work for my father. I doubt he pays you enough to even afford rent," He smashed a roach, "in this place."

"Well, I work for a paper company, I work at the branch here as an assistant. It really isn't too much different than what I do for your father, though I find I like working for your father better."

"Really, I find him a bit difficult but perhaps because I'm his son."

"Perhaps, Mohinder,"

"Yes?"

"Do you have someone back home?"

"I have friends,"

"No I mean like a girlfriend,"

"I see, I had someone but we are no more as she was not happy with my decision to stay in America for awhile."

"I see, so…I" her lips found themselves near to his.

"Yes," He had not moved his away, if anything maybe a little forward.

She was about to taste his lips when…. "It's incredible!" a voice broke through their special moment.

"Yes father?" Mohinder asked as he moved his head away.

"I have met with a Brian and he has an ability, a real ability he can move objects at will, telekinesis. We found someone!"

"What?" Mohinder was surprised, Eden tried to fake it, but she was not surprised it was a matter of time before he found one.

"Wow, really? Will I get to meet him?" She asked.

"Are you sure it isn't some kind of trick?" Mohinder inquired, in complete disbelief that his father actually found someone.

"You will see for yourself, both of you. He is coming over this afternoon."

* * *

Virginia had noticed a change in her son. It was not obvious, it was only something a mother could possible notice. He seemed…happier, and she herself should have been happy with that. And she was. At first.

Her son, whom she loved dearly, had not seem to have smile a real one in such a long time. When he came home last time, his eyes framed his smile. It was a sincere grin that warmed her heart so much.

"_Did something good happen today? Like perhaps a job offer or something?" she wondered. What else could it have possibly been? What else would have caused him to grin like that? It seemed she had forgotten the times when he was young, the things that had made him smile; however soon she would be reminded of what or who._

_His face faltered. "No, Mother. How was your day?" _

_She frowned. He had such a nice grin, much like his mother's and she frowned even more. Why was she thinking of that horrid woman? That woman who had done such treason, and she was probably the reason why Gabriel never lived up to his potential. That woman had him for the first years of his life. She hated her for several reasons, but most of all, she hated Madeline Gray for that. She shook her head. _

"_It was fine, dear. I really want to know what happened with you." She smiled brightly, "Please tell me."_

_"Nothing special. I worked at the shop. I suppose I am pleased that I will have some extra money for you, Mother." It was because the extra help that Claire offered on weekdays, she did not have practice and the fact more people had stopped by now that she was the cashier, people really do enjoy buying things from a pretty face. _

_It was partially true that he was happy because he could finally please his mother, but really the world was just better because he had a friend. He wanted to share that wonderful fact with his mother, but he was aware—and afraid—she would not understand. She seemed to believe success was the only way to obtain happiness. Once upon time, he believed that too. Still did, somewhat. But now he was starting to believe he could be happy without success, that he did not have to feel so miserable or ordinary anymore. _

_Claire saw something in him. He did not know what, but that seemed more than enough to make him feel delight. _

_His mother's eyes lit up and he returned with a smile of his own. "Oh that's wonderful." She had figured that had to be it, but she had not clue how wrong she was. _

Much to her dismay, he began to spend even more time in that shop, and while he became happier as each day passed, and as much as she was pleased with his happiness, she could not understand why he spent obscene amounts at that horrid shop, or why that made him so pleased.

Hiro found himself very fond of Charlie. She was smart, beautiful, and she could speak his language. He had never met anyone like before. She was nothing like the girls in Japan. She sat a plate of waffles in front of him.

"Here you go,"

He bowed, "Thank you,"

"Ah, your learning English," She smiled. "So I have today off, what do you boys want to do?" She stab a fork into her omelet.

He went back to speaking Japanese, "I don't know, Ando wishes to stay on the computer as much as possible." He looked over to where his friend had fallen sleep on the couch which is near the computer.

"Well then, you and I are going to have to find us ourselves something to do," She started to reach for Hiro's plate, but he held his hand up.

"No, you work at work, not at home, let me." He took his plate and hers, brought it to the sink and washed them.

"You don't have do that, just like you don't have to clean my house. I can take care of it myself."

"I know, but I can help as well and you have done so much let me do this small favor."

Charlie smiled, and that's what he was really doing these let things for, "Alright, who am I deny a gentlemen his rights to be one."

* * *

"Well, I got you temporary custody of Molly, we haven't had any luck find any relatives," Aubrey explained as she made her way down the hall. "I think she'll be more of help me when she is at home, maybe she think about something other than being scared."

"I hope so," he replied.

"Yeah, so here we go," She opened the door and immediately Molly had ran out and gave Mr. Parkman a hug.

"My hero!" She cried and gripped him tightly as stood there shaken. _I'm scared, I'm scared, they wouldn't stop asking questions. __I want to go home._

"It's alright, we been looking for your family." Matt explained, "Meanwhile you will being staying with Jancie and me, until we do. Alright."

She gazed up him and nodded her head, "You know how to protect me from the dragons." He patted her back.

"Yep, Janice and I will take care of the dragons, we know the right potiolns." Aubrey raised a brow and Matt leaned over.

"Just food dye and water, whatever works right." He explained and the F.B.I. agent just smiled for a moment.

"So why don't you take her home and I'll pick you up in hour. There are a couple contacts I'm wanting to check out."  
"Okay, I'll see you in awhile." He escorted Molly out while Aubrey went toward down the hall. _Why are all the good ones already taken? _He was a little surprised and stopped. Molly gazed upward, once he caught her gaze he smiled reassuringly at her. "Everything is alright, I just remembered something. Let's go home, your bear is waiting for you. He has been out for you all day."

"He can't talk," She looked up at him in dismay with her arms crossed as they made their way toward the car.

"I can read minds," He replied.

She thought about for a moment, "What he say?"

"That he missed you and he wanted some honey or something,"  
"Nuh-uh, he doesn 't like honey,"  
Matt scratched his head, "Maybe that was the other bear,"

"Another bear?"

"Yep, there is another bear waiting at home just for you."

"Really?" She clapped her hands. He took her hand and they headed out to the car.

* * *

Gabriel looked up at the clock it would be a few more hours and than Claire would arrive. He had become one of those people that count down the minutes someone comes home. He was extremely attach to her and nothing was going to stop what he had felt for her, now. He watched as a blond made her way toward him and was disappointed to find she was much too slender and petite to be Claire.

Elle was not too sure about this job still, but she would do anything to please daddy, so struts up to the counter in a womanly grace, "Hi," She greeted and she sat a pie in front of him, "Do you remember me?"

"I do not recall," he answered.

Elle stood there and felt kind of like an idiot and Noah who whispered in her ear was not helping it, "Remind him."

"Fine, uh, you know you fix my car the other day,"

"Yes, oh? I am not good with names, but I do remember. I see you got home alright, if you don't mind I have worked to do." If he went in the back he would not stare at the clock and time would seem to go by faster.

"Be persistent, you need him to start accepting you, and so far he is just ignoring you."  
"I know," She growled slightly.

"If you are aware, then please leave, unless you have an order to make,"

"Now why don't you call me Elle? I brought this pie for you, don't you think it would be rude not to accept it,"….

"I believe it would be unprofessional...,"

"You had not made a watch for me. You fixed my car, and I'm just trying to be a good…person by giving you something in thanks."

"Well, you have so just leave it and go,"

"Now…"

"Just leave," Noah commanded, "You are not going to make more progress than that today, he knows who you are now."

"Well, I guess I'll see you around," She waved goodbye and for the first time Gabriel looked up at her. She had a lovely smile, but it seemed fake when compare to Claire's.

She practically stumped toward the van, "I don't get why it didn't work, ugh."

"He isn't like any man he doesn't just fall for a pretty face. You will have to show him you have depth, something I had hope we wouldn't have to deal with."

"Are you saying I don't have depth,"

"You know you don't," Noah countered as he shut down the equipment in the van. "Time to go,"

"Asshole," She muttered as she made her way to the passenger seat.

"We are going have to regroup, and come up with a better plan. You are going to have to appear… even more innocent than you do. That I believe will be quite a challenge."

* * *

After Noah had gotten done with Elle he made his way toward level one where they were keeping Isaac Mendez. Eden had just arrived, "Where have you been?"

"I was working on my other job," She replied as she pressed the code in for the room. "I believe that Mohinder is going to be staying awhile. Dr. Suresh found someone,"

"I'm not surprised,"  
"Shouldn't we be concern?"

"No, we use the doctors to find the ones we can't. Anyway, right now my concern is finding out how to get Isaac to use his ability without the drugs we need him to see what is going to happen."

"You know I looked over the assignment logs and this was not one of them. This isn't something Angela setup is it?" She asked.

"I don't know what you are getting at, but if you know what's best for you. You will do as your told."

"Why? What could you possibly do to me?" Eden looked right into his eyes. She had known Gabriel was up to something, but she had not a clue what, but she also figured it was not exactly in Angela's plan.

"Eden, if you want to play the dumb card you need to be dumb to the certain events going on," Noah replied.

She understood in a instance, he wanted her help, but he could not tell her what it was, if he was going to keep her out of much trouble as possible, "Just tell me one thing, is this to protect Claire?"

"Everything I do is to protect my family." She smiled as she walked into the room. There lied Isaac in a puddle of sweat, and a pile of paints. Eden quickly grabbed a towel from the small bathroom to wipe away the sweat.

Noah looked over to the white canvas in great disappointment. He had not be able to paint one single clue, not a single one…nothing to indicate what was going to happen next to his daughter.

"I need drugs," Isaac pleaded, "If you want to know what happens next, I need drugs."

"No," Eden said, "You are going to do without the drugs."

"I can't," Isaac retorted.

"You will," Noah commanded as he went behind to the pile of paintings and pulled out a particular one, "You are going to save her life." It was his precious daughter lying in a pool of blood and over her body stood the watchmaker, Gabriel Gray.

* * *

Peter held onto the handle above his head as he watched the blurs passed by. He thought about recent events. His mind flowing back to the afternoon of soft touches and gentle caress and heavy desire, and that brought him back to the moment before. Where Simone stood outside of his apartment staring at him:

_"Peter, I…I"_

_"Simone I thought you were still with Isaac,"_

_"I…I'm…I can't be with him anymore,"_

_"O-kay,"_

_"Peter I'm not sure what is happening between us, but I'm think I would like to find out." She leaned in for a kiss and he took it._

It was wonderful but something jerked him away from his daydream as he realized that all the blurs had stopped, everything had stopped. He stared up at a Japanese man with a sword.

"Peter, you look different without your scar," The man noted, "I have message for you."

"Who are you?"

"You will find out soon enough, but for now remember Save the Cheerleader, Save the World. She is the only on e that can stop the events from unfolding but also remember…" Suddenly he gasped, "Charlie!" with that name he disappeared.

"What else am I…." He watched as the world started up again, "to remember,"

Author's Commentary: Not my best but writing has been hard lately. Everyone keeps telling me it will come back, but I love it so much.


	10. Desperations Hold and Hope

Author's Note: So here it is, I tried my best, but still don't like it, sigh.

_**Be My Escape**_

**_Chapter 10:_** Desperation's Hold And Hope

* * *

Elle had worn the sweetest, fakest grin she ever had as she arrived at the shop. Noah watched almost sick to his stomach by the sight of her flirting with the watchmaker.

"Hello," She greeted. Gabriel focused on his work for a minute before he brought his head.

"Oh Miss Bishop."

"You remembered me."

"You have already came here twice, of course I would, so what brings you here this time?"  
"Gabriel," sweetness was thickening with ever word she spoke.  
"We are not on a first name bases."

Elle had to hold back and keep herself from growling, "Mr. Gray,"  
"Yes,"  
"Well…" She had gone over this in her head a thousand times, "I…just can't stop thinking about you. You were so kind and thoughtful and I just was wondering if I could cook you dinner sometime."

He was a little bit caught off-guard and gazed up at her. She had a pretty smile but it paled in comparison with Claire's. Why had he compared her with Claire? He shook his head. It hadn't mattered, "I do not have the time, I'm afraid."  
Elle wanted to scream, shot down again and she heard Noah laugh, "Shut up."  
"What?" Gabriel asked.

"Uh," She giggled, "Shut up, of course you have the time. It is only an hour or so."

"I do not."

"Well, I won't take no for an answer. I guess I'll just have to bring the dinner to you."

Gabriel thought for a second, " Yes, that will be acceptable." _Ha, put that up your ass Noah_, Elle thought.

"Well, I guess I'll bring it in tomorrow."

"Yes, that would be fine."

* * *

Isaac found himself heartbroken and he wanted to escape this world; he was desperate to escape this room, this reality. It seemed as though there was no escape, he had to wait until they had to let them go. Then it happened he was somewhere else, an observer of events that were happening. He saw and felt it, happiness but it was not his own it was someone else's:

_There was a beautiful blond clothed in a silky white dress that hugged her curves, was tight around her tiny waist flaring downward with floral lace, the top pushed her bosom upward and wrapped around her neck creating a tasteful knot. Her hair braided in a French style with purple irises and topped with a small beautiful tiara with the metal in an intricate design around beaded flowers. She held a bouquet of wild flowers. Her face was the most gorgeous thing: her bright rare grin was framed by light lipstick. There was a hint of blush and eye shadow that matched the flowers. There was glitter that was tastefully all over her face. _

_The groom awaited at the head of the aisle dressed in an older style black style suit while the bride slowly surly approached him._

Then Isaac found himself back in that horrid reality with the realization he had the ability to have his visions without the drugs.

"Eden," he called as he pounded on the door. It flung open but it was not Eden it was Noah. Good he could put the bastard in his place, "I had a vision without the drugs."

"What was it?" Isaac smirked as Noah grasped him desperately. He hoped it had the answer to save his daughter.

"A wedding a beautiful wedding," Noah was confused, "your daughter's,"

And as it hit him, he took a step back, "My daughter's?" He briefly wondered if Isaac had see him there, but realized that was not important.

"Yes, she'll live," Isaac replied.

"She'll live," he repeated in complete awe. She would live, that gave him so much hope and joy. He just smiled.

* * *

Up high above the ground seemed so far away and just green. Zach was a tiny black dot as he gazed upward with his camera. Claire looked down as she stepped up "Attempt 1," She let the wind blow through hair it brought up the blond strands around her face.

"I can't believe she talked me into this."Zack declared as he hesitantly pushed record, "okay ready." Though, he really was not. Who could be ready to record someone killing herself? Yet, here he was, though he had tried his damnedest to talk her out of it. She still managed to do so, and she thanked him for it and he remembered the thought of how morbid it was passed through his head. This was just plain creepy.

"Don't look down," she told herself, "just step off." She put her foot out, but brought it in. She shook it off and took a deep breath. She had to do this. She was not sure why, but something inside her torn at her and she had to get away from it. She had to let go.

Freefalling…

She had done it for a moment, it was freedom she felt but then she hit the ground, all that change because then there was pain… unbearable. It was like every nerve of her body had been set on fire and now screamed in complete agony. It was….indescribable and there was something wonderful about the pain. She was still alive.

Her body had been crushed against the ground, and blood came from everywhere and her bones showed for a brief moment as her skin quickly covered them when it immediately begun to mend. Afterward, she pulled herself together as she pushed each bone back into place.

"Wow," Zach stated getting over his complete shock that his friend should be dead, "that's the most awesome thing ever."

"And to think you were totally against this idea from the beginning," She smiled.

"Yeah well…you're in pain," he noted as her face was covered in tears.

"Yeah…well I was but it didn't last long,"

"But it was pretty bad, huh…I don't think we should do it again,"

She was surprised. She thought once he had done it one time, it would not be so hard the next time. "Why it only lasted for a second,"

"Why, continue you proved your point,"  
"I don't know," She admitted, "I just have to."

* * *

A couple more weeks passed by and the tape had been hidden by Zach. The tape which contained her 34 attempts of killing herself, and Claire still had experiment over and over again with her new ability after that not sure what to make of it. No clue, why she was desperate to still prove she was human and normal. She shook her head out of those thoughts, instead focused on the orders in front of her.

It felt as if Claire had work at the Gray's watch shop forever. It was not the bad kind of forever, like at the beginning where time just dragged on forever. It was the good kind, where everything felt familiar and welcoming, like coming home to her family. She now had knowledge how to run the shop almost completely by herself, well except the part about making the watches, but hey she was not the watchmaker. Now, though she had known where the parts went, she had known what some of them were called and had the register down to an art. The best part though, was that Mr. Gray started to finally open up to her.

"So, you went to college?" She wondered as she finished filling out one of the order forms.

"For a brief period of time, yes," He wiped his glasses and then looked back at the watch he worked on.

"Why did you quit?"

"My mother needed me here." As if there was no sacrifice made which there had been Claire realized Gabriel had gave up so much for his mother's happiness and the sad thing she begun to see was that he had little of his own.

"Oh," She had no idea what to say and nervously brushed a strand aside. If she had paid attention she would have saw Gabriel's eyes on her and his hand longing almost grabbed the silk strand. "Well, I don't know if I'm going to go to college or not."

"I think you would like it," He turned his head back to what he was doing.

"Why is that? Because I seem like a party girl, because I'm not really...I mean there was that one..." She could not stand the idea of him thinking of her in a way that made her seem…less.

"No, it has nothing to do with that," He looked over her shoulder to read a current order, "You just seem like someone who would do well in a social environment, and there are various types of people. I believe you could get along with just about anyone."

"Oh…thank you," She smiled, "I think I would get along with someone like you the best though."

"That is kind of you." He replied putting a watch in a box. There was odd sensation from her words, he had only recently become acquainted with, joy.

"It is the truth…I think…you're my best friend," That glorious grin glowed more than it had before, yet it seemed a little unsteady until he grinned back, something he rarely done.

"I'm flattered, now we have much work to do, we need to go over some of your homework, a B is good but I believe you can achieve an A." He begun to put up his supplies and Claire sighed in exasperation.

"Ugh," she slung herself over the counter because the idea of it was kind of exhausting, considering they had gone over her homework in great detail ever time which had known was a good thing but still…it took forever. "You got to be kidding!"

"I am not," Gabriel replied as he pulled out the book, "Ms. Smith believes as much as well."  
"You know sometimes I hate her," Clarie said but then she thought how Ms. Smith was really the few people who truly believed in her, "but she is kind of awesome."

"My impression was that she was a person of great wisdom." There was something else about her as well, something…familiar. _Sweet baby, rest your eyes, and lay your head on soft clouds, float away, float away, _sung a soothing voice and he remember eyes like his but a smile…Claire had that same smile.

"Yeah I would hope as a teacher she would have some."

* * *

Virginia looked at the phone in her hand, her son's phone. There was the house phone number, a few places that Gabriel called often to check on her, and there was another name: one she never heard of before. She was sure it was some girl's number. What was her son doing wasting his time with some girl and what kind of name was Claire? It sounded like some blond tramp's name. This girl was nothing but a distraction for her son and she would have none of it. She closed the phone and sat it down in her chair.

She then made her way toward him just as he came out his room, "My precious boy," He saw it before it had came, the look in her eyes that fake smile revealed it all as she grabbed a hold of his face, "Tell me about this girl."

"What girl?"

She grasped tighter, "Don't play with me, Claire."

"Claire?" He wondered how she had known of her, but received his answer when he saw his phone on her rocking chair, "She refused to be just a number in phone as she insists we are friends."

"Gabriel," She said softly and he cringed, "Friends are a waste of time."

"She is not taking my time away from me as she is working for me." He said in an almost desperate tone. He couldn't, wouldn't lose her, not now. It was too late, he couldn't give her up.

That made his mother turn cold and she dug her nails into his skin, "You are wasting our money on paying some little tramp to prance around your store."

Instead of fear and shame, he just felt…he was mad. He torn his face from her hands and his mother's eyes widened at the sound of her son sneering at her. "She's not a tramp." She was losing…lost control of him. He took off in angry.

It left her in dismay. Gabriel had never done anything like that; he had been such a good boy. "That girl," She snarled, "Is trying to take my Gabriel away from me."

* * *

Claire was confused, when she had arrived home both her parents sat at the kitchen table waiting for her. "Is something going on?"

Sandra had not looked happy, "You know exactly what has been going on!" This had not cleared up her confusion and it showed on her face, "I don't know where you having been going young lady, but you are going to stop sneaking out. You are grounded until you admit were you been."

Noah just watched the scene play at before him. He would let Sandra handle this for a moment.

"Mom, you know where I been, you been taking me," She exclaimed in shock.

"Don't lie to me Claire," She had thrown down a cloth on the counter as she had been doing dishes.

"I'm not lying, why don't you remember?" Noah gazed upward, he could not help but think for a brief moment that this had something with erasing her memories but he shook that thought away. Claire was a teenager, teenager's had a tendency to lie to stay out of trouble and his Clairebear had done so before.

"I don't know what you are talking about Claire," Sandra declared, "You were supposed to be home two hours ago and I was worried sick."

"No, I wasn't I been going to same place I have been for the last month or so, mom you know it is true. I have been working at the shop and being tutored."

"I won't having you lying!" Sandra remarked. She had started to become very impatient. "I would remember that, we never hired a tutor for you."

"You didn't have to. I found one who was free."

"I don't why your making up such ridiculous stories but uh…" Sandra grasped her head, it hurt as she tried to recall something….but she could not.

"Claire, just go up to your room." Noah ordered as he saw his wife's pain.

"I can't believe this!" She trudged up the stairs, trying to keep the tears at bay. How could they think she was lying to them? Sure, she has once or twice, but it didn't make sense to her because her mother had to know she was not lying. She took her to same place for the last four weeks or more and now her mother didn't…remember. Why? Was something wrong with her mom?

* * *

Ando had seriously considered just hitchhiking for Vegas but they were broken and no money meant no women or gambling. It had seemed like a rather useless thing to do. Yet he had grown tired of the treatment Hiro had been showing him lately, the sidekick, as if Ando could be such but then again, he was the one without powers and Hiro was currently on his way of getting the girl. He heard another giggle from the corner of the room.

Charlie was not like any of the girls Hiro had met and it was not just because she was American. Though, he was fascinated with that and she was able to share so much about her culture. They would talk about the differences in food, government and so many things because Hiro had been very much educated about the western ways, though there was so much more he had not known. Then there were the conversations that had nothing to do with culture but just things as they were.

"You are beautiful," Hiro claimed, "Like Sakura blossoms in the spring."

She smiled slightly, he was so wonderful but this…whatever was between them would not last. Her days were number so if her smile looked a little dim it was because she was dying and she wanted this to last forever. "Thank you, you're so sweet."

"Why do you seem sad?"

"No reason at all." She patted his hand, "just tired." Her voice was not very convincing and Hiro looked at her with slight worry, "I'm ready to head home, are you?"

He let his worry fade at the excitement of once again going home with Charlie. He had known that he would follow this girl anywhere, and his destiny as a hero started to become part of the back of his mind because he was falling in love.

* * *

Peter had been stretched out on Irene's couch while she had gotten some much needed rest. He let his mind wonder. Simone had told him she wanted to give them a try, but some reason Peter was not sure if he should. Yes, he had slept with her and maybe he should not have with all the doubts that plagued his mind. Lately, Simone was not the only woman taking over his mind: _Emma._

He thought of her more lately, the beautiful doctor who he had seen on an occasion at the hospital. Her occupation of his mind started slowly, because she had been Irene's doctor, but then he found he could not get her out of his head, but he could not get Simone out either. He sighed. Then there was that other thing: he still could not figure out what the hell the man on the train had been talking about.

If other people had powers; then maybe there was some ability he had and maybe he was suppose to do something with it but what? Who was the cheerleader? How would he find her? And how could he save her? How…Peter raised up his head as he heard a knock at the door.

"Would you get that?" Irene asked from her bedroom.

"Sure," He hoped off the couch and opened the door which revealed a woman in her late 30's dressed in a black skirt and a floral blue blouse with warm brown eyes.

"Hello, I'm Madeline Smith, is Irene here?" She smiled brightly and there was something familiar about the way she smiled. _"You're getting so big Peter!"A female voice exclaimed._ His mind pulled out the phrase but he could not match the face to who may have said it.

"Do I know you?" he wondered.

She seemed a bit confused but still held a cheerful polite expression, "No," she replied, though it was a blatant lie. She thought: _he has gotten so big. No longer that little boy I knew, just a tall handsome man and he turned into a bit of looker. _"I'm a friend of Irene's." He stood there not sure what do because this woman was so familiar and it bothered him for some reason not knowing who she was. She giggled, "Can I come in and visit? I know she is probably tired but I don't know when I'll have another chance."

"Oh of course," suddenly feeling like an idiot and he stepped aside.

"Irene!" She exclaimed and Peter turned to see that the frail lady had managed to find her way out of bed. She was weak that much was obvious as he body shook. Madeline quickly ran to her aid.

"Silly old woman don't injury yourself. Let's get you back to bed." She stated out of concern and began to escort her back.

"Oh come on I'm fine." She waved off the younger woman's worry. "I have Peter," and Irene pointedly smile at him.

"I know but you shouldn't have gotten out of bed for my sake I was on my way."

"But dear, it is not often that I have an angel visit me."

Madeline laughed, "I'm no angel. I assure you."

"But dear you were once dead and you have come back."

Peter was not sure what to think as he watched her and Irene disappear into the room, he followed behind. Irene claimed this woman (from what he understood) was a ghost, once dead now she supposedly had come back to life. Once thought impossible, but with all the other strange things that had happened…could it really have been possible that she would come back to life. _Why was she so familiar? Had he know her before she died?_

He watched as Madeline pulled the covers over Irene, "Well…that's better," She grinned as she patted the blanket, "Now I suppose, you're wondering why I'm here." She glanced at Peter for a second.

"Yes I am, it is a curious thing for an angel to visit me."

"Well," She pulled up a chair, "I'm mainly here to see you before you go." It was the truth- though there had been another reason for the visit-but Irene's time was running short. It was written clearly as the years on her face and the fact that Peter was here was even more proof. The elderly woman had been her only friend for awhile, one of the few people who had been able to see her, had made that so. She had been grateful for the connection to the living, so she would say goodbye properly.

"Well dear," Irene sighed, "You can't see angels can you?"

"Not anymore," she patted her hand, "I'm no longer one."

"Yes I understand. I appreciate that you have come. Yes, it is true my days are so few but I'm not worried as there are many kind Angels. I think I'll do well with my friends."

"There are things I need to share with you. I saw my son." She said still somewhat awed by the fact she actually had touched her baby.

"How exciting!"

"Yes, he was all grown up. I wish I had been there for him, and not just watching." She confessed her voice broke and she willed the tears away.

Peter was fascinated and confused on what to do. If Irene were delusional was it okay for Peter to let this woman help feed into them? Did she also believe these fantasies? Was all the woman had just said true? If his brother could fly, why not, but why would she freely let Peter be aware of such a thing? Would she not want to keep the fact she was once a ghost a secret to-at the very least—keep people from thinking she was insane.

"I'm sorry,"

"It's not your fault. Anyhow I have so much to share with you. I'm doing very well in chess, I have beaten Mr. Linderman a couple of times."

Peter raised a brow, "You know Linderman,"

"Yes, perhaps that is how you know me." She exclaimed a little too excitedly. _That's it, Peter, think about it. "_That must be why I seemed familiar to you. We must have seen each other at one of his parties."

Something seemed off to Peter, _strange, why would she point that out? _

"Oh how delightful," Irene clapped her hands in excitement. She was fond of her caretaker, "You have met Peter."

"Yes unfortunately I can't recall much of our encounter, if any." She thought for a second about when she first saw Peter. He had been such a tiny thing with his round brown eyes and chubby little face, Angela had such a glow back then; though it was short lived. Madeline then recalled the last time she saw Peter, when she was alive. Still young-about the age Gabriel was-and he already felt worth less than Nathan, her heart had broke for him and yet… she saw his greatness and strength come from his pain.

"I can't recall much either," he confessed but he somehow had known it wasn't the parties. There was something important about this woman, if he could only remember. "No I don't think that was it. I think I knew you when I was child…"

She laughed, "That's impossible, I believe that I'm the same age…well I suppose we could have met as children, but I suppose that is not an easy thing to remember, perhaps I look like somebody you once knew."

"I suppose," he agreed but something told him that was not it either, "well…should I leave you two alone?"

"Yes, we have so much to talk about." She agreed and Peter left her alone. As he waited he still thought about how he might of known her and the fact that (well Irene had) claimed she was an Angel. She made her way passed him.

"Do you believe you're an angel?"

"No, of course not, but…Irene isn't wrong either."

"I don't understand." He looked at her with confusion and she just smiled.

"It will take time, all will reveal itself." She turned the knob, "Remember that, time, in particular: a watch, is the other connection you seek."

"What?" She was already out the door he followed her but she was already gone.

* * *

Author's Commentary: In desperate need of betas, I want to get back to writing and posting but I go and search betas and half of them don't respond or say no, actually most of them. So anybody know of any Betas or want to be mine please let me know. Sorry yes, it is short, I'm trying to speed up the plot to, so let me know if it was okay or not.


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